CONGRESS 




FORMATION 



A MANLY CHARACTER: 



A SERIES OF LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. 



By GEORGE PECK, D.D. 



PUBLISHED BY CARLTON & PHILLIPS 



00 3JULBEERT-SI U EET . 

1853. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, 

BI CARLTON & PHILLIPS, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern 
District of New- York. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The aim of the following lectures is expressed 
in a brief charge delivered by David to his 
son Solomon, " Show thyself a man." There 
is true dignity in manhood. To be "a man" 
in the high sense intended in this brief but 
significant sentence, is to attain to the highest 
excellence. True manhood is little less than 
angelic — it is the grandest exhibition of the 
divine power and wisdom — the culminating 
point of this world's greatness. Man was not 
only made "in the likeness and image of 
God," but, as says Dr. South, " in him were 
united all the scattered perfections of the 
creature, all the graces and. ornaments; all 
the airs and features of being were abridged 
into this small, yet full, system of nature and 
divinity." 

How fearfullv, then, has man fallen from 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

the glorious eminence upon which he was 
originally placed ! He is now debased and 
cursed by sin. He has become a foe to God 
and his own happiness, and is sunk into the 
very depths of moral pollution. The crown 
has fallen from his head, and he is despoiled 
of all his original dignity and beauty. The 
image of God is marred and effaced, and in its 
stead is to be found the image of Satan. 

The remedial system of the gospel provides 
a probation for all, and institutes a disciplin- 
ary process, the object of which is the rein- 
vestment of human nature with its original 
dignity. The educating process, having this 
great end in view, should be wisely adjusted 
to the elevation and restoration of man. The 
child has nothing but the basis of the super- 
structure. The young man is in the transi- 
tion state — just passing from childhood to 
manhood — the period when the means and 
agencies designed for the formation of charac- 
ter can act with the greatest advantage, and 
consequently should be plied with the greatest 
force, and improved with the utmost dili- 
gence. 



INTRODUCTION. 

True manhood is the object to which the 
young man should direct his attention and 
his aim. It is a structure to be erected, and 
is composed of elements wisely arranged and 
combined. It is a complex but harmonious 
whole, every part of which has its place and is 
absolutely necessary to perfect symmetry. 

The theme is expansive, and needs to be 
thoroughly surveyed. It is worthy the study 
of parents and teachers of all classes, from 
the instructor of an infant class to the pro- 
fessor in the university ; but it especially 
commends itself to the consideration of young 
men. They should study with great diligence 
both the imperfection and the improvability 
of their physical, intellectual, and moral con- 
stitution ; the means and conditions by Avhich 
each of these departments of their manhood is 
to be improved ; the difficulties and obstacles 
to be overcome, and the motives which urge 
prompt and persevering action. 

" Upon the time that is now passing over, 
it depends chiefly what you are to be and to 
do, through all time and eternity. The next 
two years will very likely determine the great 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

question concerning the character of your 
whole existence. The observable tendencies 
of boyhood and youth, the significant prog- 
nostication of the pupil and the apprentice, 
the declaratory signs of earlier years, will now 
receive their full and, perhaps, final confirma- 
tion. Your character, like your body, through 
the previous stages of existence, now, like that, 
aims at its full shape and maturity, which it 
will hereafter exhibit. Can you be thought- 
less and carelessly indifferent at such a 
crisis?" — Rev. J. A. James 's Lectures to Young 
Men. 

In these lectures my purpose is to render 
the young men of the country some aid in the 
great work of reforming and improving them- 
selves — of qualifying themselves for the great 
battle of life — of attaining to the dignity of 
a manly character. Upon this, young gentle- 
men, depends your influence, your usefulness, 
and your happiness during the present and 
the future life. 

Under strong convictions of the importance 
of the work upon which I now enter, I pray 
for wisdom and grace from above, that I may 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

not fail to do it ample justice. I feel my re- 
sponsibilities to God, to the Church, and to the 
world. The young men whose ear I may gain 
are to be largely concerned in the instrumen- 
tality, which God in his providence is now pre- 
paring, for the enlightenment and salvation 
of the world. If they shall be obstructed in 
their preparations for the field which is soon 
to be assigned them, by errors and mistakes 
upon my part, I shall incur a fearful amount 
of responsibility ; but if, on the other hand, I 
shall be able to render them effectual aid in 
this work, I shall by that means, in the best 
way, serve the Church and the world, the pres- 
ent generation and generations to come. 

Young gentlemen — what I especially wish, 
and what I am encouraged to hope will not be 
denied me, is your earnest attention. I beg 
you to believe that, although there is con- 
siderable difference between your age and 
mine — you are in the vigour of youth and I am 
past the meridian of life — yet my sympathies 
with you, in all your perplexities and dangers, 
are deep and controlling. But the other day 
I was young like you, was flushed with high 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

anticipations as you now are, was surrounded 
with temptations and dangers such as now 
encompass you. My impressions, my vexa- 
tions, my temptations, my aspirations then, 
are now all present to my mind with the same 
vividness and strength as are the impressions 
of yesterday. These images of the past are 
the good angels which prompt and encourage 
me in the effort which I now commence, to 
render you some timely assistance in your 
efforts to prepare for usefulness. 

May I not hope at the commencement to 
secure that measure of your confidence which 
will be necessary to success ? At least, believe 
that my object is to do you good ; farther than 
this I will ask nothing but simple concessions 
to the dictates of true religion and sound phi- 
losophy. 



CONTENTS. 



I. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 

Necessary to bodily vigour, arc, 1. Exercise— Field labour— Ridingon 
horseback — Geological and botanical excursions.— L\ Suitable at- 
tention to diet— Food of the right kind, in suitable quantities, 
and at the proper season — Illustration from Addison.— 3. Necessary 
sleep — When it should he taken.— 4. Cleanliness — Bathing.— 
5. Exposure to extremes of weather. — G. Temperance — Use Of 
intoxicating drinks.— Illustrations of the importance of phy- 
sical maturity — Quotation from J. T. Crane — Late King of the 
French T Page 1 1 

II. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 

A distinction between wisdom and knowledge — I. Subjects of 
knowledge— 1. Self-knowledge— 2. The knowledgeofmen— 3. The 

knowledge of the physical world— 4. A competent knowledge of 
science and letters. — II. Practical wisdom — Reasoning, in what 
the power of, consists— Rules of— All may attain it— Ignorance is 
disgraceful — Illustrations from James, Locke, and Cicero -1 

III. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD, CONTINUED. 

THE IMAGINATION. 

Definition of imagination from Abercrombie and Ranch— The He- 
brew word— Importance of the power— May be improved— It is 
necessary to the vigour of the reasoning powers— Contributes to 
sympathy— And is a source of happiness — Diseased imagination 
—Case from Dr. Gall — Rousseau — Case from Dean Swift— From 
M. Chabanon — Several cases never before published — Hypochon- 
dria — An amusing instance — Unduly excited imagination — 
One idea— Castle building— Reckless speculations— A corrupt im- 
agination — A striking illustration — Causes of this corruption — 
Works of fiction— Opinion of Dean Swift— John Foster— Dr. John- 
son — Dr. Abercrombie 53 



IV. EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 

Desires— Animal appetites— A desire of wealth — Desire of influence 
— Fear — False notions of courage and cowardice — The duelist — 
Courage and fortitude— Love— Definition— The counterfeit of— 
Malevolent affections — Anger — Hatred — Revenge — Envy — Jeal- 
ousy - Pride — A distinction — Influence upon the character 34 



10 COKTEKTS. 



V. VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 

Government of the will— Energy— Decision— Importance of a re- 
solve — Sad effects of delay — Hindrances to decision — Instances of 
decision— Firmness— Difficulties and importance of— A short les- 
son — Illustrations — Perseverance — Difference between these traits 
of character and obstinacy Page 111 



VI. SOCIAL MANHOOD. 

What is implied in good manners— 1. Special attention to general 
bearing — 2. Chaste conversation — 3. Appropriate bearing towards 
ladies— 4. Manners at home— 5. Pay special respect to age.. 139 



VII. CIVIL MANHOOD. 

Rights of citizens— Protection— Responsibilities of a citizen— Duties 
of a citizen — 1. To pay taxes for the support of government — 
2. Assist in supporting the purity of government— 3. To contribute 
to the common stock of useful knowledge — 4. To contribute to 
the public morality 164 



VIII. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 

The internal qualities of a moral or a religious man — Experi- 
mental religion— An enlightened, purified, and awakened con- 
science—Faith—A thorough renovation of heart 190 



IX. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD, CONTINUED. 

Practical religion— Outward profession — Attending the means of 
— benevolent institutions— Christian conduct in your inter- 
course with the world 218 



X. TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 

This is an age of improvement — Foreigners — Radicalism — Activity 
—An extract from Bonar on Progress— Temptations to youth- 
God fever 240 



XI. THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 

Extensive information— Untiring industry— Power of adaptation — 
Liberal Christian education — Thorough and extensive acquaint- 
ance with books— Large and catholic views and feelings 277 



MANLY CHARACTER. 



I. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 

" THAT OUR SONS MAY BE AS PLANTS GROWN UP IS THEIR 
YOUTH." — PSA. CXETV, 12. 

The idea of an early and a healthy develop- 
ment of the physical powers is not blindly 
implied in this text, but seems to stand out 
prominently upon its very face. That you 
early acquire the physical strength of a man 
— hardness of muscle and strength of nerve — 
is every way important. I need not attempt 
to prove to you, young gentlemen, that the 
weakness of childhood or feminine delicacy is 
not becoming in one who has reached the 
stature and bulk of a man. I shall assume 
that you concede all this, and fully appreciate 
the importance of the full development of the 
physical powers as early in life as possible, 
and, of course, that you are prepared properly 
to estimate the means which are directed to 
this end. I shall consequently proceed at 



12 MANLY CHARACTER. 

once to the consideration of the conditions of 
the early attainment of the physical powers 
of manhood. 

The subject will not be treated in so learned 
or scientific a manner as to be difficult of ap- 
prehension. A few practical rules will be laid 
down, which will commend themselves to your 
common-sense, and which will need very little 
illustration. 

1. The first thing which I urge as necessary 
to the acquisition of manly strength and 
vigour of body, is exercise. Every muscle of 
the human body requires a certain amount of 
use in order to its healthy condition. The 
physical powers are all increased by exercise, 
and diminished by disuse ; and to give strength 
and vigour to the body, a species of exercise 
is necessary which will task the muscular 
strength of every part of the system. Walk- 
ing only exercises a portion of the muscles, 
while others remain comparatively inactive. 
In the place of field labour, which is by 
far the most conducive to bodily strength, 
gymnastic exercises may be profitably re- 
sorted to. 

In the mean time, if a young man is en- 
gaged in a business which will afford him an 
opportunity to lift heavy bodies, to pull a 
rope, to roll barrels, tumble boxes, or exercise 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 13 

himself in any other way whereby the muscles 
of his limbs and chest may be moderately 
strained, he will find that such exercise, em- 
ployed habitually, will give him strength and 
vigour of body which otherwise he would never 
attain. 

"An examination of the human frame demon- 
strates that it was intended for motion, alter- 
nately with repose, and not for a state of abso- 
lute quiescence. The action of the muscles is 
necessary to aid in circulating the blood and 
in completing the process of digestion, as well 
as to insure a regular motion of the bowels. 
The rising generation would be much benefited 
if instruction in any branch of natural history 
formed a part of their education ; young per- 
sons would then be furnished with motives for 
taking exercise out of doors, to the manifest 
advantage of the figure of the body and the 
tendencies of the mind. 

" Agul, a voluptuary, who could be man- 
aged but with difficulty by his physician, on 
finding himself extremely ill from indolence 
and intemperance, requested advice. 'Eat a 
basilisk stewed in rose water/ replied the phy- 
sician. In vain did the slaves search for a 
basilisk until they met with Zadig, who, ap- 
proaching Agul, exclaimed, 'Behold that which 
thou desirest I But, my lord,' continued he, ' it 



14 MANLY CHARACTER. 

is not to be eaten ; all its virtue must enter 
through thy pores ; I have, therefore, enclosed 
it in a little ball, blown up, and covered with 
a fine skin ; thou must strike this ball with all 
thy might, and I must strike it back again 
for a considerable time, and by observing this 
regimen, and taking no other drink than rose- 
water for a few days, thou wilt see and ac- 
knowledge the effect of my art.' The first 
day Agul was out of breath, and thought he 
should have died of fatigue ; the second he was 
less fatigued and slept better ; in eight days 
lie recovered all his strength. Zadig then 
said to him : ' There is no such thing in na- 
ture as a basilisk ! but thou hast taken exercise 
and been temperate, and hast, therefore, recovered 
thy health V " — Penny Qyc, Analeptics. 

For the young men of our cities and 
towns it would be of great service to spend 
a few weeks during the summer, for several 
years successively, in field labour ; to follow 
the plow, handle the pitch-fork, and swing the 
scythe and cradle, with due moderation, would 
give them physical power and solidity of muscle 
that would never be attained by the desk or 
counter. To those who are unwilling to have 
recourse to such a method of forming a sub- 
stantial physical constitution, I would advise 
riding on horseback, and scouring the moun- 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 15 

tains and valleys on foot, making geological 
or botanical collections, or, under certain limi- 
tations, hunting and fishing will, in some sort, 
answer as a substitute for field labour. Some 
method of free, vigorous exercise, entered 
upon from choice, con amove, in the open air, 
and in good company, for a portion of the year, 
is an indispensable condition of good health 
and a vigorous body. 

" The importance to be attached to exer- 
cise, and its inseparable connexion with good 
health, was better understood by the ancient 
Greeks and Eomans, especially by the former, 
than by ourselves. They saw more clearly 
that the perfection of the whole man was to 
be effectually obtained only by a due develop- 
ment of his physical as well as his intellectual 
nature ; and that the healthy condition of the 
mind depended on a perfectly healthy condi- 
tion of the body. Hence, they made the two 
parts of education an almost equally serious 
business, and did not leave exercise to be a 
matter of accident ; hence the importance they 
attached to the gymnasium and its athletic ex- 
ercises. The ' sound mind in a sound body/ 
(not either alone,) was the almost proverbial 
expression of well-being ; and surely the emi- 
nent intellectual capacity and achievements 
exhibited bv this remarkable nation, will serve 



16 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to show that the mind is no loser by due at- 
tention to the body."* 

2. Another thing essential to physical 
strength, is suitable attention to diet. 

Food should be of the right kind, taken in 
suitable quantities, and at the proper seasons. 
These rules, we are aware, are not very specific, 
and may be of little use. They are introduced 
in this place as an occasion for a few practical 
remarks which are vitally important, and 
which will do much towards regulating the 
matter of regimen. Food, in both kind and 
degree, should be suited to the strength of 
the constitution and the state of the digestive 
organs ; and a little attention to the subject 
of dietetics, and an ordinary amount of com- 
mon-sense, will furnish adequate guidance in 
all ordinary cases. Overtasking the digestive 
powers, or denying them the means of adequate 
employment, either, will, in all cases, be found 
prejudicial to the physical functions, and, of 
course, inconsistent with physical solidity and 
vigour. While too much animal food should 
be avoided on the one hand, a mere vegetable 
diet should be eschewed on the other. In a 
healthy state of the digestive organs, a diet 

5 Good Health : the Possibility, Duty, and Means of Obtain- 
ing and Keeping it. — An excellent little work, published by 
Carlton & Phillips, and revised by D. P. Kidder. 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 17 

upon bran bread and milk is quite as far below 
as three hearty meals of beef and bacon would 
be above the standard of propriety. 

" It should ever be remembered, that the 
object in eating is not to see how much can be 
taken without suffering or injury, but rather 
how little. The repair of the body and the 
energies of the mind, will be best secured by 
just so much of wholesome food as is really 
required, and no more. There can, however, 
be no virtue or wisdom in any degree of absti- 
nence which deprives us of the blessings of 
strength, ease, and energy ; but there is wis- 
dom in finding out, as nearly as we can, how 
much aliment will procure these for us, and in 
limiting ourselves to that quantity. 7 ' 

The following illustration of this important 
subject is from the pen of Addison : — " It is 
said of Diogenes, that meeting a young man 
who was going to a feast, he took him up in 
the street and carried him home to his friends, 
as one who was running into imminent danger, 
had not he prevented him. What would that 
philosopher have said had he been present at 
the gluttony of a modern meal ? Would he 
not have thought the master of the family 
mad, and have begged his servants to tie down 
his hands had he seen him devour fowl, fish, 
and flesh, swallow oil and vinegar, wines and 



18 MANLY CHARACTER. 

spices, throw down salads of twenty different 
herbs, sauce of a hundred ingredients, confec- 
tions and fruits of numberless sweets and fla- 
vours ? What unnatural motions and counter- 
ferments must such a medley of intemperance 
produce in the body ! For my own part, when 
I behold a fashionable table set out in all its 
magnificence, I fancy I see gouts and dropsies, 
fevers and lethargies, with other innumera- 
ble distempers, lying in ambush among the 
dishes." — Spectator. 

3. Necessary sleep, taken at the proper 
time, is another condition of health and physi- 
cal vigour. 

" Healthy sleep is the perfect rest and in- 
action of the brain, and, therefore, of every 
function that implies consciousness. It con- 
sequently draws with it the repose of the volun- 
tary muscles, and the cessation of almost every 
other mode of expenditure, while it leaves the 
involuntary functions, which nourish the frame 
and repair the waste of the tissues, under the 
circumstances most favourable to their ac- 
tivity. This is what constitutes sleep the 
great ' foster-nurse of nature.' " 

The practice of turning night into day and 
day into night, cannot be too severely repro- 
bated. A large class of young men are ex- 
posed to the temptation of spending, in dissi- 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 19 

pating pleasures, all that part of the night 
which is the most naturally adapted to re- 
freshing sleep, and trying to compensate the 
system for the loss of quiet rest during the 
fore part of the night, by sleeping away the 
morning — the season when the air is bracing, 
and all nature is wakeful and joyous. The 
maxim of Poor Richard, alias Dr. Franklin, 
" Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man 
healthy, wealthy, and wise," is based upon the 
soundest philosophy, but is most horribly old- 
fashioned in the estimation of too many of the 
young men of the present day. 

4. Cleanliness cannot be too highly esti- 
mated. In order to this, frequent bathing 
with pure cold water is indispensable. 

" Perspiration is the channel by which salts 
and other principles, no longer useful in the 
system, are removed from it. According to 
Thenard, it consists of a large quantity of 
water, a small quantity of an acid, which, ac- 
cording to circumstances, may be either acetic, 
lactic, or phosphoric, and some salts, chiefly 
hydrochlorate of soda and potassa. Taking 
the lowest estimate of Lavoisier, the skin ap- 
pears to be endowed with the power of remov- 
ing from the system, in the space of twenty- 
four hours, twenty ounces of waste ; the reten- 
tion of this in the system is productive of great 



MANLY CHARACTER. 

injury, and the inconvenience is only lessened 
by the increased action of some internal organ, 
which becomes oppressed by the double load 
thus cast upon it. Even the retention of the 
perspired matter close to the skin, from neglect 
of changing the clothes, is the source of many 
cutaneous diseases, particularly in spring and 
summer." — Penny Ency., Bathing. 

To remove this injurious matter from the 
skin, I say, Bathe frequently in cold water. 

The young man who is so afflicted with 
hydrophobia that the sight of a shower-bath 
would cause his teeth to chatter, is in a fair 
May, sooner or later, to fall a victim to dys- 
pepsia, bronchitis, nervousness, or consump- 
tion. 

"What I say of bathing, of course, is to be 
understood as applicable only to a healthy 
condition of the system. When the system is 
enfeebled by disease, the bath should be regu- 
lated by the advice of a physician. 

5. Exposure to the extremes of weather, 
under all ordinary circumstances, is a means 
of bracing the system and fortifying it against 
the evils which often result from atmospheric 
changes. A young man who is never exposed 
to wind and weather would be very likely to 

For a more extended view of this subject than can here he 
taken, see "Good Health," pp. L04-121. 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 21 

take cold if a current of air should fall upon 
him, and if he were to be caught out in a storm 
would never expect to outlive the danger. 
The feeble muscles of such boys are as unfit to 
endure the pelting of a storm, either by land 
or sea, as a piece of satin would be for the sail 
of a man-of-war. 

G. The final condition of physical strength 
which I shall mention, is temperance in all 



The word temperance, in its most general 
signification, implies moderation, or self-gov- 
ernment, and is applicable to every species of 
indulgence. It shall not be my purpose at 
present to treat of each department of this 
great and important theme, but to call atten- 
tion to a few of its leading features. 

The ordinary use of the word temperance, at 
present, implies almost exclusively abstinence 
from intoxicating drinks, or, in its lowest sense, 
the negation of habits of drunkenness. To 
say nothing of the moral influence of the habit 
of using intoxicating drinks as a beverage, its 
influence upon the vital organs of the system 
is such as to place such drinks under the ban, 
with all who regard life and health. There is 
no safety to the young man, from the dread- 
ful evils of intemperance and ruin, but in the 
Scripture rule in relation to all sinful courses, 



22 MANLY CHARACTER. 

" Touch not, taste not, handle not the unclean 
thing." The social glass, so insidious in its 
advances as that it gives no alarm, is the 
opening door to all the mischiefs and miseries 
of confirmed drunkenness. Every repetition 
of the draught tends to form an appetite and 
fix a habit, which will continue to cry, Give ! 
give ! until it brings disease and premature 
death in its train ! 

I would advise all young men, who can 
have access to them, to examine Dr. Sewall's 
series of engravings, showing the appearance 
of the human stomach through the different 
stages of drinking intoxicating liquors — from 
the stage called temperate drinking, to tbat 
attended with delirium tremens. Here you 
will see with your own eyes what havoc 
alcohol makes upon the delicate coats of the 
stomach, and how soon it begins its career of 
disorganization and ruin. 

There is a strong temptation to enlarge 
upon this point beyond due bounds. My 
limits will not admit of saying all that I 
should say in a temperance lecture, and I 
must leave my young friends to those who, 
of set purpose, have discussed this important 
topic, and presented its bearings and interests 
at large. It will be sufficient for my present 
purpose to say, in general, that the most 



PHYSICAL MAXHOOD. 23 

stringent maxims of temperance embraced in 
absolute teetotalism, meet niy most cordial 
approbation, and cannot be too scrupulously 
observed by the young man who would ac- 
quire and maintain physical manhood. 

With this brief statement of the conditions 
of physical development and physical matu- 
rity, it may be appropriate to give a few illus- 
trations of the real importance of the end had 
in view. 

I need not attempt to prove that if you 
would be useful members of society, you will 
stand in need of a strong and vigorous phys- 
ical constitution. Souls, to act in the atfairs 
of this world, must have bodies to inhabit ; 
and, as the soul acts through the bodily 
organs, if those organs are imperfect or 
weak, the mind will necessarily be much 
crippled in its energies, and retarded in its 
aspirations. Whether you are a merchant, 
a farmer, a mechanic, a physician, a lawyer, 
or a clergyman, you want a sound, strong 
body. Without solid sinews and muscles, and 
strong nerves, you will probably drag out a 
miserable existence, and be comparatively 
useless. Would you be a dyspeptic, or a hy- 
pochondriac, and die a thousand deaths be- 
fore the time really comes for you to 
close your probation, then take no means 



24 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to secure and preserve a vigorous physical 
system. 

" There are few things more calculated to 
stir our hearts with deep regret than to see a 
young man, whose mind has been trained to 
labour, and stored with knowledge, whose 
heart beats with sympathy for his fellow- 
men, and whose soul pants for honourable 
activity, but whose feeble frame, like a frail 
bark driven by a mighty engine, trembles at 
every impulse of the power within. And how 
keenly does such a one feel his own condition ! 
He sees others ascend whither he longs to 
rise, but cannot, because of his 'body of 
death.' His burning eye, like the eagle's, 
is fixed upon the sun, and he longs to soar 
beyond the clouds, and revel in purer light 
above ; but a feeble frame, like a broken 
wing, holds him down to earth, and all his 
efforts to launch away end only in disappoint- 
ment and new anguish." 

There are instances in which a feeble body 
is inhabited by a soul so strong in its im- 
pulses and purposes, that it will, for a time, 
act vigorously in the great battle of life ; but 
they constitute the exception and not the 
rule. Besides, it should be considered that 

° Discourse before the Belles-Lettres Society of Dickinson 
College, by Rev. J. Townley Crane, A. M. 



PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 25 

if these persons had a physical system equal 
to the texture of their minds, they would do 
proportionably more for the world. 

You may have the prospect of wealth, 
which will place you above the necessities of 
labour; -but you should not forget that riches 
often " take to themselves wings and fly 
away." And if you should at last be left to 
your own resources, it will be convenient to 
find yourself able to resort to honest labour 
to secure your bread. Should you be cast 
away upon some inclement shore, or wrecked 
at sea — should you only be obliged to ply the 
pump on a vessel to avoid drowning — it will 
be well for you if your hands and heart are 
equal to the emergency. 

The late King of the French, Louis Philippe, 
in the emergencies of the great French Revo- 
lution, which beheaded the legitimate sover- 
eign, was a fugitive in the United States, 
and, during his wanderings, performed prodi- 
gies in the way of toil and exposure. He 
came from Canada into the western part' of 
the State of New- York, travelled on foot east 
to the Susquehanna at Owego ; from that 
point descended that rapid and crooked stream 
in a canoe to Harrisburgh ; crossed the Alle- 
ghany Mountains, and, in a small, flat-bottom 
boat, descended the Ohio and the Mississippi 



26 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to Xew-Orleans. He slept so long upon a 
hard bed, during his wanderings in America, 
that he never more became reconciled to 
feathers. When in France, we were shown 
his beds, in several of his palaces, and, in all 
cases, his side was hard, being composed of a 
plank, covered by a thin mattress. When the 
kings of Europe were trembling upon their 
thrones, at the commencement of the late 
convulsions, he said to a friend that he was 
the only king in Europe fit for his place, for 
he was the only one who could black his own 
boots. 

If kings may find it convenient to be able 
to endure hardships and privations, and to 
minister to their own wants, may not all 
others ? When the emergency comes, he is 
happy who is prepared for the struggle. 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 27 



II.-IXTELLECTUAL MAXHOOD. 

"BRETHREN, BE NOT CHILDREN IX UNDERSTANDING, . . BUT IN 
UNDERSTANDING BE MEN." — I COR. XIY, 20. 

While but a youth, Solomon was promoted to 
the throne of Israel. His father had been 
renowned for his battles, and had acquired 
great wealth ; and to all the glory he had 
attained, through his extraordinary military 
prowess, and the special providence of God, 
Solomon succeeded. He was a most loved 
and cherished son, and had been tenderly 
nurtured. What more natural than that he 
should look to further conquests, and an in- 
creased accumulation of wealth, and that he 
might live many years in the enjoyment of 
all that this world could afford. This would 
have been the natural tendency of an aspiring 
mind — and especially the mind of a young 
man — left to its own natural promptings. 
Solomon's mind had early been imbued with 
religious truth — he had a true idea of human 
responsibility and human destiny. When, 
therefore, God said to him, " Ask what I 
shall give thee," his petition was : " Give me 
now wisdom and knowledge, that I may go 
out and come in before this people." This 



28 MANLY CHARACTER. 

choice is not only suitable and wise for a king 
— just entering upon the high functions of his 
office — but for every young man who is about 
to take upon himself the duties and responsi- 
bilities of a citizen. 

It might seem too much like hair-splitting 
to attempt a distinction between " wisdom " 
and " knowledge," as it may be supposed that 
they are mere synonyms, and are both used 
for the sake of emphasis. I shall, however, 
venture to suggest a distinction, which I 
think justified both by the original and the 
use of the words, which will afford some aid 
in the discussion of the subject of the present 
lecture. Knowledge implies intelligence, or 
the capacity and furnishment of the mind ; 
and wisdom, ability and aptness of the mind 
to appropriate its stores to practical purposes. 
Here we have precisely the two ideas which I 
wish to present in some detail, and which 
shall be considered in the light of the passage 
which I have selected for my motto. I shall 
endeavour to show that your mincl«pust first 
be furnished with facts and principles, and 
that then you must acquire a facility in 
using them ; and that this is that very manli- 
ness of intellectual character which the apostle 
enforces with so much gravity and with such 
force of reason. 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 29 

I. First, then, I shall speak of the nature 
and subjects of knowledge. 

The knowledge of God, or religious knowl- 
edge, the most important of all sciences, I 
shall reserve for separate consideration, and 
therefore shall not here embrace it within mj 
classification. 

1. The first branch of knowledge I shall 
notice, is self-knoivledge. 

That sage maxim which was engraven upon 
the portals of the temple of Delphi, yvC)6t 
aeavrov, 'know thyself, whether it be regarded 
as a maxim of mere human prudence, or of 
the religion of the Bible, stands out pre- 
eminent in importance. That shrewd think- 
er, Coleridge, says : — " There is one knowl- 
edge, which it is every man's interest and 
duty to acquire, namely, self-knowledge ; or 
to what end was man alone, of all animals, 
imbued by the Creator with the faculty of 
self-consciousness ?" Again: "In countries 
enlightened by the gospel, the most formi- 
dable, and, it is to be feared, the most fre- 
quent impediment, to men's turning their 
minds inward upon themselves, is, that they 
are afraid of what they shall find there. 
There is an aching hollo wness in the bosom, 
a dark cold speck at the heart, an obscure 
and boding sense of somewhat, that must be 



dU MANLY CHARACTER. 

kept out of sight of the conscience; some 
secret lodger, whom they can neither resolve 
to reject nor retain." 

We should know our own composition and 
character, our constitutional tendencies, the 
temperament of our minds, our weaknesses, 
habits, faults, wants. These are matters 
which will he studied and understood by 
others ; and why should we be ignorant of 
them? Without this knowledge we can do 
little towards our own advancement — we shall 
constantly misjudge with regard to the appro- 
priate means of improvement, and our efforts 
will be as powerless as they are ill-chosen. 

We must form a proper estimate of our 
powers, the measure of our intellectual 
strength, our particular adaptation, our men- 
tal complexion, the peculiar caste and strength 
of genius witli which God has endowed us. 
Without this knowledge, we shall be likely to 
miss our way in the selection of the profession 
or course of life to which we are adapted, and 
in which we would act with the greatest use- 
fulness and credit. 

We should also be able rightly to estimate 
our susceptibilities ; not only our suscepti- 
bilities of improvement and of happiness, but 
also of prejudice, of temptations, of being 
governed by circumstances. He knows but 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 61 

little of himself who has not become ac- 
quainted with the manner in which he is 
affected by the objects and influences by 
which he is surrounded. He will neither 
know how to improve, nor to guard himself 
against, surrounding circumstances, and, con- 
sequently, all the knowledge he may attain 
of his wants, dangers, and capabilities, will be 
to very little purpose. 

The self-knowledge which I urge is not a 
natural and spontaneous growth, but is the 
result of patient and diligent effort in using 
the means of its attainment. 

The individual who would know himself 
must commence his efforts for the attainment 
of this object from a deep conviction of its 
importance, and an equally deep and strong 
conviction that he is deficient in that species 
of knowledge. That young man, who, from 
a hasty measurement of himself, has formed 
a most favourable opinion of his own powers 
and qualifications, has not yet sounded the 
depths of his own emptiness — knows little of 
what there is in his character to be remedied, 
and the specific direction in which he is to 
look for aid. They who really know least of 
themselves, will be likely to have the least 
idea of the importance of self-knowledge, and, 
consequently, will be the last to move in the 



32 MANLY CHARACTER. 

direction of its attainment. They see them- 
selves in a false light; they are blind to 
their faults, while others not only see them, 
but see also their self-deception. The false 
estimate they make of themselves is plain to 
everybody else, but is wholly undiscovered 
by themselves. Well might such pray, in the 
language of the old Scotch bard : — 

" O wad some power the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as ithers see us ! 
It wad frae mony a folly free us, 

An' foolish notion : 
How mony airs in gait wad lea us, 

An' e'en devotion !" — Burxs. 

It often happens in such cases that nothing 
but some grand blunder — some stupendous 
failure — will suffice to open the eyes of the 
victims of self-ignorance. The pangs of dis- 
appointment, the mortification of disgrace, 
alone can bring them to their senses. Pa- 
rental admonition, or friendly warning, makes 
no impression upon them. Full of them- 
selves, and equally full of contempt and 
scorn for the weak ones who have never had 
the penetration to appreciate their splendid 
abilities, they launch out into depths that 
they are not able to fathom, and are lost — 
undertake to navigate unknown seas, and 
make shipwreck. 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 33 

The means to be employed in the pursuit 
of self-knowledge are easily suggested. 

Constant and thorough self-examination is 
the first point which naturally presents itself 
in this connexion. The study of self is a 
great and difficult study. We are naturally 
blind to our own faults and infirmities, and, 
consequently, slow in coming to a just esti- 
mate of our own character. In looking into 
the mysteries of our own hearts, we should be 
suspicious of undue partiality to ourselves 
whenever we find anything there with which 
we are specially pleased ; and when we feel a 
disposition to overlook, or glance hastily over, 
our failings, or any tendency that is certainly 
wrong or doubtful. In all such cases, we 
should force ourselves to pause, and look a 
little more thoroughly into the matter, and 
come to no determination until we shall have 
thoroughly sifted our motives, intentions, and 
even feelings — the bodings and tendencies 
of our hearts. Let it always be borne in 
mind that we had far better over-estimate 
our vices than our virtues — our ignorance 
than our knowledge — our weaknesses than 
our strength. 

The spirit in which this examination should 
be entered upon and prosecuted should be not 
only impartial and earnest, but devout. We 



o± BtANLY CHARACTER. 

should always ask divine light to guide us to 
right conclusions. This is the point where 
we should especially claim the promise, and 
follow the directions of the apostle James : — 
" If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of 
God, that giveth to all liberally, and up- 
braideth not; and it shall be given him." 
Going to God in prayer should also be at- 
tended by an earnest and devout reading of 
the Scriptures. The word of God is the mir- 
ror which displays our moral features as they 
really are. It is a perfect moral standard, 
and, when faithfully consulted, does not fail 
to show us our failures and waywardness. 

We shall also be greatly aided in this work 
by having before us the best models of man- 
ners and morals. Where we see a worthy 
example — a man of pure morals and unex- 
ceptionable manners — we should try to con- 
ceive ourselves in his position ; and, if we 
are greatly his inferior, we shall be struck 
with an evident incongruity between what 
we are and what we behold — his charac- 
ter and our tendencies would be at odds. 
Our reflections would naturally be these: 
I w r ould not have been likely to do thus 
under such circumstances ; I could not well 
have resisted such terrible temptations; I 
should not have attained such eminent and 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. do 

enviable self-denial — endured sucli labour, and 
s uttered such privations for such reasons, and 
stimulated by such motives. There is a les- 
son in this, which brings home to our view our 
deficiencies and wants. 

Beading will be found exceedingly useful 
as an aid in the study of ourselves. More 
especially books which display the depths of 
human character, and expose the sophisms by 
which men deceive themselves, should have 
our attention. There is a world of wisdom 
in the little book on " Self-Knowledge," by 
Dr. Mason. Every young man should read 
this book, and repeat the reading, until its 
great principles and practical rules are thor- 
oughly mastered, and leave a permanent im- 
pression upon the memory. 

2. Another branch of knowledge, is a knowl- 
edge of men. 

The great importance of this species of 
knowledge will be at once suggested by the 
fact, that we are constantly coming into con- 
tact with other men. Our intercourse with 
them, and their influence over us, are fruitful 
of good or evil results, as we are prepared, or 
not prepared, to fix a right estimate of them. 
A knowledge of human character is absolutely 

3 The best edition of this book is published at the Method- 
ist Book Boom. 



36 MANLY CHARACTER. 

essential to success in any profession or busi- 
ness. For want of this we are liable to be 
deceived, supplanted, and thwarted, at every 
turn. I can assure you, young gentlemen, 
that your success in the world, to a great ex- 
tent, will depend upon your ability to fathom 
the mysteries of human character — to detect, 
and arm yourselves against, the arts of men 
whose whole business is to take advantage of 
the weaknesses of others, and to become rich 
by plundering the wrecks which they have 
occasioned. These miserable blood-suckers 
are constantly hunting for simpletons upon 
whom to glut their avarice or their ambition. 
They pay special attention to the young, 
the adventurous, the precipitate, the reckless, 
and the inexperienced. Like their master, 
whom they serve, they go about " seeking 
whom they may devour ;" and woe to him 
who is not acquainted with their wiles. 

Human character is to be learned by read- 
ing and observation. History — and especially 
biography — is replete with instruction upon 
this great subject. The lives of great and 
good men — philosophers, statesmen, divines — 
the biographies of pious men and women, will 
not fail to shed much light upon human 
character in general. You will not find it 
necessary to go very deeply into the history 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. Wt 

of crime in the prosecution of this study. 
Crime is contracted by contact. The less we 
know of its actual forms, the less we see and 
read of them, the better. In the history of 
a pious man — following him through his juve- 
nile years, and observing all his struggles 
with temptation, his early aberrations, and 
later relapses — there will be developed enough 
of the weaknesses and corruptions of the hu- 
man heart to serve as warnings, without your 
diving into haunts of vice, either by actual 
observation, or by reading the history, espe- 
cially the private history, of noted sinners. 

In your intercourse with society, you will 
see the fruits of human corruption in real 
life in sufficiency — yea, far more than will be 
for your good — without studying the fictitious 
characters, which infidel and licentious writers 
have conjured up, to meet the vitiated taste 
of the novel-reading community, and to lead 
away the young from the paths of virtue. 
The idea that human character is more truth- 
fully developed in works of fiction than in 
veritable history, isnn absurdity too monstrous 
to be entertained for a moment. You might 
as well be led to believe that the most miser- 
able daubing of the most bungling artist, far 
exceeds the original ; that you could learn 
more of the real appearance and topography 



38 MANLY CHARACTER. 

of New- York, Paris, or London, from some pic- 
ture, or mere fancy sketch, than by personal 
inspection. There may be a bolder outline, 
higher and stronger colours in the copy than 
in the original ; but there is not therefore 
more of truth. The impressions of the imagin- 
ation are sometimes stronger than those of the 
eye or ear ; but what of that ? Does that 
prove that the visions of the imagination are 
more truthful pictures of facts and objects of 
sense, than those which come through the 
senses ? Certainly not. Go not then, my 
young friends, to the fictions, or popular nov- 
els of the day, for a knowledge of human 
character, but study the thing itself. 

If you add to reading the habit of careful 
observation, you will be able to store up such 
facts as will enable you to come to wise and 
safe conclusions, in all ordinary cases, with 
regard to the character of men. You should 
make every man, woman, and child around 
you a booh, from which you make it your 
daily business to derive lessons of instruction. 
Make men your study — observe and scrutinize 
their conduct. Mark the connexion between 
their conduct and certain results — the in- 
fluence they exert upon society, and the means 
of that influence — the impressions they make, 
the opinions which are formed of them, and 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 39 

how it all comes to pass — why it is that 
one man is respected, and another despised ; 
one loved, and another hated ; one has un- 
bounded influence over his fellow-men, and 
another is a mere cipher in society. 

This knowledge is gained, not by asking 
questions, and prying into the secrets of other 
men, but by critical observation and patient 
reflection. A young man who would gain 
this knowledge, must keep his eyes wide open 
— he must cultivate the habit of observing 
and classifying the smallest things. Men's 
deeds must be subjected to scrutiny ; and the 
impression they make, and the judgments we 
form of them, be made matter of record in 
the memory. 

3. To these branches of knowledge add 
an acquaintance with the physical world. The 
history, geography, and natural productions 
of the earth, spread out before you a wide 
field. Each of these themes is sufficient to 
occupy the study of ages. Some general 
knowledge of them all may, however, be at- 
tained by the improvement of such fragments 
of time, as all may command for the pur- 
pose. 

The books upon these topics are so numer- 
ous and voluminous, that I cannot attempt 
to give a catalogue of them, or even to give 



40 MANLY CHARACTER. 

an opinion which would guide you in a selec- 
tion. It is most fortunate that we have books 
upon these several themes to suit almost 
every condition and capacity. To say nothing 
of the greatly improved text-books which are 
in use in the schools, there are condensations 
and compends in abundance, which give a 
bold outline and a multitude of facts within 
a small space ; so that, in a short time, much 
may be learned of the world in which we 
live. 

It is not always best to spend time upon 
works which profess to give midtum in parvo, 
as they seldom give a clear view of anything. 
Such works as take up particular kinds of 
history, or the geography and productions of 
a particular country, are often much more 
instructive. As an instance of this class of 
publications, I would mention Mr. Abbott's 
Historical Series. 

4. Finally, a competent knowledge of 
science and letters should, by all means, be 
attained. This will embrace the knowledge 
of philosophy — at least so far as is necessary 
to the useful arts ; the knowledge of history, 
of poetry, and of divinity. 

Philosophy will embrace the causes which 
govern matter and mind — natural, intellect- 
ual, moral and political philosophy. Upon 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 41 

these I cannot enlarge ; even a very brief ex- 
position would carry me too far into details. 
A brief course of reading and study devoted 
to eacb of these themes, with good instruc- 
tions, will meet all the necessities of practical 
life. Even without instruction, so simple are 
the text-books now in use, that a sensible and 
studious young man may acquire a knowledge 
of the elements of philosophy which will 
qualify him to meet the ordinary exigencies 
of a life of business, as a farmer, a mechanic, 
or a merchant. In either of these depart- 
ments of action he will find it necessary, at 
least in a qualified sense, to be a philosopher. 
If possible, every young man should study 
chemistry, natural philosophy, intellectual 
philosophy, botany, geology, moral philos- 
ophy, and political economy, in an academy 
under good instructions ; but where this is 
not practicable, he should avail himself of the 
best aids possible, and try to secure a compe- 
tent knowledge of these branches without 
regular instructions. 

As to divinity, or the science of religion, 
no one, who has a soul, should neglect it. 
Not that every one can or should become a 
divine, in the technical sense of that term ; 
but every one should not only be well ac- 
quainted with the Scriptures, but also with 



42 MANLY CHARACTER. 

the best theological writers. His own de- 
nominational literature should be thoroughly 
studied and well understood. In the midst 
of so much confusion and discord as prevail 
in the Christian world, it is almost a matter 
of necessity that every intelligent Christian 
man should " be ready to give a reason for 
the hope that is in him with meekness and 
fear." 

The means of attaining this knowledge are 
abundant, and well adapted to the purpose. 
The Sabbath school is the commencement of 
the process. The preaching of the gospel 
carries forward the learner in his inquiries. 
Then there is an indefinite number and va- 
riety of books devoted to the discussion of 
both the doctrinal and practical points of the- 
ology, suited to all classes of minds. No indi- 
vidual can be well instructed in Christian 
doctrine, without much reading and study. 
The labour will, however, be abundantly 
compensated in the results which will fol- 
low. 

Having now given you a brief summary of 
the materials which constitute the furniture 
of the mind, or the matter of knowledge — 
that with which it is highly desirable and 
absolutely necessary you should have a con- 
siderable acquaintance, if you would be men 



INTELLECTUAL MAXIIOOD. 43 

in understanding — I now proceed to the second 
general division of my theme. 

II. To intellectual manhood, practical wis- 
dom is necessary. 

By practical wisdom, I mean the power of 
applying and appropriating the elements of 
knowledge, or the facts and principles stored 
up in the mind. The process involves reflec- 
tion, with all the mental operations necessary 
to processes of reasoning. 

Coleridge says : " There is one art, of 
which every man should be master — the art 
of reflection. If you are not a thinking man, 
to what purpose are you a man at all?" And 
again, — " Let it not be forgotten, that the 
powers of the understanding and the intel- 
lectual graces are precious gifts of God ; and 
that every Christian, according to the oppor- 
tunities vouchsafed to him, is bound to culti- 
vate the one and to acquire the other." 

The mind may be ever so richly stored with 
facts, but unless it has the power of using 
them they are of no avail. They would be 
like undiscovered treasures in the bowels of 
the earth, or like the talent hid in the earth 
in a napkin. There are men who have a 
vast amount of knowledge, but no qualifica- 
tions for active service in any department of 
social life. The facts which they have learn- 



44: MANLY CHARACTER. 

ed, perhaps at great expense of money and 
labour, are like useless lumber stowed away 
in a garret. They have science, but they are 
not able to reason ; they have almost bound- 
less knowledge, but it tells not upon the inter- 
ests of society. 

Reasoning consists of generalization, analy- 
sis, comparison, and judgment. The power 
of carrying forward a process of reasoning 
depends upon the power of attention, reflec- 
tion, philosophical associations, mental ab- 
straction, and what may be called mental te- 
nacity, or a power of following out our mental 
processes through a series of propositions, 
tracing the relations, both near and remote, 
of all the steps of the process, from axioms 
or first principles, to the most distant con- 
clusions. To treat the subject a little more 
practically, the following general rules will 
be found important, and, if followed, will 
secure the end 1 have in view — the attainment 
of a power and facility in reasoning, which 
will place you among men of mature and 
elevated intelligence. 

1. Let your object be truth. jSTo man has 
any sufficient motive for being in the wrong. 
Truth is an attribute of God. Christ says : 
" I am the truth. 7 ' As a principle in morals, 
it stands among the first. It is the end of 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 45 

divine revelation, and the means of human 
elevation. Every one, like Pilate, should 
ask, " What is truth ?" but, unlike him, 
should he ready to follow its decisions with- 
out fear or favour. The devil is a liar, and 
the father of lies ; and those who would be 
like him should disregard the truth. 

2. In all your inquiries and discussions, en- 
deavour to have a clear and correct view of 
the question under consideration. Without 
this, you will labour in vain to convince 
others. A thousand wordy wars have been 
waged, and long prosecuted, when, if the 
combatants had only understood the real 
question at issue, it would have been evident 
that there was nothing to contend about. 

3. Avoid fallacious reasoning. A great 
philosopher says, " Truth never was indebted 
to a lie." If the truth cannot be sustained 
by fair means, let it go. This, however, is 
not the case. The arts of sophistry are never 
necessary in a good cause ; and a point gained 
by such means might better have been lost. 
It is much better that a truth should be dis- 
paraged for a time than that the minds of 
men should be warped by the arts of false 
reasoning. Sophistical reasoning also does 
immense injury to the person who employs it, 
— lessening his reverence for truth, and 



46 MANLY CHARACTER. 

diminishing his power of legitimate processes 
of reasoning. 

Hence, avoid the use of equivocal terms 
when it is possible ; and when it is not, ex- 
plain the sense in which you employ them. 
Neglect this rule, and you will find you are 
often disputing about words. Not unfre- 
quently the most bitter controversies are car- 
ried on for a long time, when the whole 
quarrel grows out of the use of several 
equivocal terms, to which one party attributes 
one sense, and the other another. 

4. Never contend merely for victory. The 
object is too trivial for an immortal and 
responsible being. Whether I am a more 
skilful disputant than another man, is a mat- 
ter of small consequence. The interests of 
truth can have no concern whatever with that 
question. Besides, it might be dangerous to 
succeed in making the worse appear the better 
reason. It might pervert weak minds, and 
certainly it would not help to improve your 
own. I once knew a strong man take what 
lie considered the wrong side in a debate, and 
handle the argument so skilfully as to defeat 
his opponents, and finally convert himself. If 
he were right at first, his victory was an evil 
that probably was never remedied. 

5. Give the reasons of an opponent all due 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 4? 

consideration — look at tlicm in their strong- 
est light. It is shameful for a disputant to 
set himself at work, in the first place, to mis- 
represent an opponent — misstate his argu- 
ment, and then proceed to demolish it. This 
is setting up a man of straw, and shooting 
at it. Such a. course always spoils a cause. 
Intelligent observers will naturally infer that 
you are in the wrong, when you adopt this 
course : for it is natural to conclude, when 
an argument is first misstated and perverted, 
and then answered, that it cannot be answered 
by fair means. 

Most of the discussions of our times, particu- 
larly those which are of a political nature, are 
marked by the most flagrant violation of some, 
or all, of these rules. Our political scribblers 
are mere gladiators, contending for victory. 
The one who can throw the most dust is the 
best fellow. Not truth, but victory and the 
spoils, are the objects they have in view ; and 
the means they employ are worthy of the cause 
in which they are engaged, and answer to the 
end they propose to accomplish. 

Many of the religious controversies which 
have disturbed the harmony of the Churches, 
are sadly marred by the same neglect of the 
legitimate rules of fair reasoning. Confine 
polemics to the mode of discussion which is 



48 MANLY CHARACTER. 

here contended for, and religious wars would 
be " few and far between." All the religious 
controversies would be confined to fundamen- 
tals. The questions would concern the truth 
of the great foundation principles of Christian- 
ity ; the war would not be between one ortho- 
dox Christian and another, but .between Chris- 
tianity and infidelity, and between orthodoxy 
and heresy. Argumentation between ortho- 
dox Christians would be mutually instructive, 
and would lead to a nearer approximation of 
different denominations of Christians, and not 
to a wider separation. 

The above rules of reasoning apply to cases 
where mind is in contact with mind, and are 
designed to regulate the conduct of the parties 
in a debate, or the discussion of questions about 
which there are differences of opinion. Prac- 
tical wisdom not only covers all such cases, but 
also all questions which we are to settle for 
ourselves and upon our own reflections, in which 
we may or may not be principally concerned, 
but which are settled by ourselves and not by 
associated bodies or the public at large. Such 
are all matters which relate to our private 
business, and rest upon our own responsibility. 
Such are all questions of mere expediency and 
of policy. Such are all matters of mere taste 
and fitness — questions as to the best method 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 49 

of doing tilings. A sound discretion — the 
power of coming to decisions in such matters 
that we shall not find occasion to regret or re- 
tract, and which men of sense will approve — is 
practical wisdom. 

The power to bring from a well-stored mind 
facts and principles applicable to all occasions 
and emergencies, characterizes the manly in- 
telligence, which is the point at which yon are 
to aim. You must be able to act wisely and 
to converse intelligently on all occasions. To 
this will be necessary a fund of knowledge 
and a tact for bringing it into use. This is to 
be men in understanding. 

How necessary this intellectual manhood is 
to a manly character, I need not attempt to 
show. No one need despair of reaching the 
high intellectual eminence here insisted upon. 

" The very heights in social and commer- 
cial life are accessible to all, from whatever 
low level they commence the ascent. The 
grandfather of the late Sir Eobert Peel was, 
at one time, a journeyman cotton-spinner. 
He that laid the foundation of the greatness 
and wealth of the Arkwright family, w T as a 
barber. Carey, one of the greatest linguists 
and missionaries of modern times, was a cob- 
bler. Stephenson, the great engineer and first 
constructer of railways, was a vender of 



50 MANLY CHARACTER. 

matches. jS"o one knows what openings God 
may set before him in life ; and should he not 
he prepared to take advantage of them? 
Yes ; this very preparation, in many cases, 
makes the opening." — James. 

The time when mere ignoramuses can pass 
themselves off as men has passed away. It is 
becoming more and more difficult for a young 
man to take a fair position in society, and suc- 
ceed in any department of business, without a 
capability of drawing upon the stores of a well- 
furnished mind as need requires. Times are 
changing; the race is improving; the masses 
are rising; education and general intelligence 
are affecting the whole population. Ignorance 
of men and things, of practical philosophy, of 
the history of the world, of the doctrines and 
forms of religion, and of current events, is 
now positively disgraceful, and is reason enough 
why any young man of ordinary opportunities 
can have no honourable place in good society, 
and have little or no influence. 

That great philosopher, John Locke, re- 
marks : " How men, whose plentiful fortunes 
allow them leisure to improve their under- 
standings, can satisfy themselves with a lazy 
ignorance, I cannot tell ; but methinks they 
have a low opinion of their souls, who lay out 
all their income in provision for the body and 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 51 

employ none of it to procure the means and 
helps of knowledge — who take great care to 
appear always in a neat and splendid article, 
and would think themselves miserable in coarse 
clothes or a patched coat, and yet contentedly 
sutler their minds to appear abroad in a pie- 
bald livery of coarse patches and borrowed 
shreds, such as it has pleased chance or their 
country tailor — 1 mean the common opinion 
of those they have conversed with — to clothe 
them in. I will not mention how unreason- 
able this is for men that ever think of a future 
state, and their concernment in it, which no 
rational man can avoid to do sometimes." 

Again he says : " There is a certain season 
when our minds may be enlarged ; when a vast 
stock of useful truths may be acquired ; when 
our passions will readily submit to the govern- 
ment of reason ; when right principles may be 
so fixed in us, as to influence every important 
action of our future lives : but the season for 
this extends neither to the whole, nor to any 
considerable length of our continuance upon 
earth ; it is limited to a few years of our term ; 
and if throughout these we neglect it, error or 
ignorance is, according to the ordinary course 
of things, entailed upon us. Our will becomes 
our law ; our lusts gain a strength, which we 
afterwards vainly oppose ; wrong inclinations 



52 MANLY CHARACTER. 

"become so confirmed in us, that they defeat all 
our endeavours to correct them." 

"Would you he a man for the times, bestir 
yourself; look about you, and see how much 
there is to he learned before you are prepared 
to take a part in the grand strife of the nine- 
teenth century. " Knowledge is power." The 
father of the experimental philosophy never 
uttered a greater truth. Would you have 
power to accumulate or to appropriate — power 
to get good or to do good — acquire knowledge. 
" In understanding he ye men." 

Would you seek refined and elevated pleas- 
ure, cultivate your understanding. "What," 
Bays the great Roman philosopher and orator, 
Cicero, " are the pleasures of a luxurious table, 
of games, of shows, of sensuality, when com- 
pared with those resulting from the study of 
letters? — a study which, in men of sense and 
good education, still increases in charms with 
their years. Whence that fine saying of 
Solon, that he grew old, still every day learn- 
ing something new. Certainly no enjoyment 
can surpass this pleasure of the mind." — De 
Senect. 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 53 



III.— IXTELLECTUAL MMHOOD-CONTmUED. 

THE IMAGINATION. 

" FOR THE LORD SEARCHETH ALL HEARTS, AND UXDERSTANDETH 
ALL THE IMAGINATIONS OF THE THOUGHTS. — LORD GOD OF 
ABRAHAM, ISAAC, AND OF ISRAEL, KEEP THIS FOREVER IN THK 
IMAGINATION OF THE THOUGHTS OF THE HEART OF THY PEO- 
PLE, AND PREPARE THEIR HEART UNTO THEE." — 1 CHRON. 

xxvni, 9 ; xxix, IS. 

The imagination constitutes so important a 
portion of our mental states, that I have though fc 
best to give it separate consideration. The 
state of mind or power called imagination, is 
the power which the mind possesses of group- 
ing its conceptions in new relations, or of 
originating new accidents of existing things. 
Pictures of the imagination, by authors upon 
the subject, are presumed to be above nature. 
For instance: "A painter, by this process, de- 
picts a landscape, combining the beauties of 
various real landscapes, and excluding their 
defects. A poet or a novelist, in the same 
manner, calls into being a fictitious character, 
endowed with those qualities with which it suits 
his purpose to invest him, places him in con- 
tact with others equally imaginary, and ar- 
ranges, according to his will, the scenes in 
which he shall bear a part and the line of con- 



64 MANLY CHARACTER. 

duct he shall follow. The compound, in these 
cases, is entirely fictitious and arbitrary ; hut 
it is expected that the individual elements shall 
be such as actually occur in nature, and that 
the combination shall not differ remarkably 
from what might really happen/' — Abercrom- 
bie. An example of this is seen in Milton's 
description of the garden of Eden. 

"1. It is the activity of the mind which, 
with ease and freedom, unites different images 
or creates new ones, having been furnished 
with the materials for them by sensation and 
conception. Such images of imagination are 
those of Amazons, Cyclops, sirens, fairies, 
elves, giants, and dwarfs. These images can- 
not be seen in nature ; they are, therefore, in 
one respect, new, and yet the parts of which 
they consist are furnished by sensation and 
perception, and consequently met with out 
of us. 

" 2. Imagination is the power to call forth 
images for the purpose of clothing an idea or 
thought which arises in the mind. The images 
thus called forth may be variously modified to 
render them appropriate vehicles of thought. 
This no one will dispute who is aware that, as 
the mind constantly grows in cultivation, its 
conceptions must likewise become more correct, 
so that as often as they are reproduced, they 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 5o 

will bear the impress of the mind's improve- 
ment. Imagination then, is the power ivhich 
modifies the images once received, creates new 
ones of them, and gives them contents ivhich do 
not originally belong to them. 

" Some examples will show this more satis- 
factorily. I think of strength ; my imagina- 
tion, being lively, seeks for an image by which 
to express it; it takes the image of the lion, 
places its thought in it, and thus the lion be- 
comes the symbol of strength. Again, the 
idea that man, if left to himself, is without 
any knowledge of heavenly things, and cannot 
speak concerning them, is a thought produced 
by reflection. This thought imagination de- 
sires to represent in an external form. It 
therefore creates an image to which it gives it 
as its contents. The Egyptian statue of Mem- 
non was.the symbol thus created. It was made 
of marble, its face turned towards the rising 
sun, and it gave forth lovely sounds when the 
first rays fell upon it. So man is mute and 
dead till heavenly light awakens him. Guido 
represents a pious and beautiful virgin sitting 
alone at her needle; two angels attend her. 
What does this mean? Innocence and dili- 
gence are honoured by heavenly spirits. 

" The contents placed in an image may be 
a number or cluster of thoughts, and then, in- 



00 MANLY CHARACTER. 

stead of one, we must have many images. 
When connected it is called an allegory. The 
thought that man consists of soul and body, is 
connected with the idea that whatever he is 
in regard to intellect, he is by having freed 
himself from his animal passions. The Egyp- 
tian sphinx is an allegorical representation of 
this ; in it the head of a woman grows forth 
and rests on a body composed of parts of dif- 
ferent animals mingled with each other. This 
mease that humanity, here represented by a 
woman, must, by its own power, emerge from 
the dominion of animal desires. Or Eros, love, 
sitting upon a lion, strength, and guiding him 
with a silken cord, moderation, shows that love 
softens the strongest. Cerberus, with three 
heads, and Argus, with a hundred eyes, ex- 
press the ideas that watchfulness must look 
in every direction. The centaur is a symbol 
of prudence, swiftness, and considerateness. 

" From this it must sufficiently appear that 
imagination, as the basis of arts, creates an 
unreal but powerful and beautiful world. By 
it all objects and images receive ideal subsis- 
tence, and there is nothing too good to become 
the receptacle in which imagination may place 
the contents of the mind. While the man of 
business sees nothing in spring but flowers and 
hills, the eye of imagination perceives in the 



DTEKLLBCTUAL MANHOOD. 57 

flowers and ornamented liills the connubial 
garlands of spring; when the former hears 
nothing hut the noise of a running brook, 
imagination hears the murmuring waters ex- 
press their joy that they are no longer chained 
by the ice, but have been freed by spring, to 
which they .sing their song." — Psychologi/, by 
Pv\ F. A. Baueh. 

The sense of the Hebrew word rendered 
imagination, is in striking conformity with the 
scholastic definition. According to Gesenius, 
the Hebrew word, rendered imagination, is 
figuratively used for " what is formed in the 
mind" — that is, a creation of the mind. The 
work of the mind in this case docs not consist 
in originating the materials of the conception, 
but in forming or creating the arrangement 
and relations of those materials. The thing 
created "in the mind" is wholly ideal, 
having no existence in the world of realities. 
This definition has its most apt illustra- 
tions in the creations of poets and novel- 
ists. Verbal addresses clothed in the lan- 
guage of trope and metaphor, and calculated 
to excite strong emotions, furnish another in- 
stance of the same class. 

Efforts of imagination of this class, have 
for their object gratification or pleasure, more 
than instruction. The object is to produce 



58 MANLY CHARACTER. 

pleasurable emotions. Most persons seek ex- 
citement, and pursue their own personal grati- 
fication ; and hence the position which works 
of imagination have in the public mind, and 
the interest with which imaginative speakers 
are sought after. It is the book that makes 
you weep or laugh ; and the orator that stirs 
up the soul, and fills it with emotion, by the 
means of novel and unexpected associations, 
that are sought after by the masses. 

The power of forming combinations calcu- 
lated to produce deep feeling, and to awaken 
the soul to high resolves and deeds of noble 
daring, constitutes a great genius. The power 
of invention, consisting in the exercise of the 
imagination, is applied to the investigations 
of science. It has much to do in the mathe- 
matics, and has been employed in contriving 
experiments, and in the construction of theo- 
ries, which have led to the most important 
discoveries. Such theories have often been 
founded in true philosophy, and have stood 
the test of experiments ; but they have not 
unfrequently been wholly baseless, and have 
led their advocates into the wildest vagaries. 
The old alchemists held, that all metals were 
mere compounds, the baser of them contain- 
ing the same constituents as gold ; and that 
by removing their impurities, they might be 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 59 

made to assume the properties and value of 
that precious metal. The change, they sup- 
posed, could he effected by what was termed 
lapis phUosophorum,, or the philosopher's stone. 
The hypothesis of the alchemists was base- 
less — the philosopher's stone wholly imagin- 
ary ; and so far as their specific object was 
concerned, all the experiments of this class 
of fictitionists proved failures. A multitude 
of harebrained theorists, very much like the 
ancient sect of philosophers here referred to, 
have figured in every age of the world, and 
our own times are not without them. 

The imagination is a very important func- 
tion of the mind. It is concerned in all pro- 
cesses of reasoning. It involves the power of 
relative suggestion and association, which are 
essential constituents in all reasoning. With- 
out imagination, the mind would simply at- 
tend to facts as they present themselves to 
the senses or the understanding, without con- 
sidering their relations and connexions. Per- 
sons who are deficient in imagination, are 
usually denominated matter-of-fact men. They 
never hazard an experiment ; they are de- 
ficient in enterprise ; they make no improve- 
ments upon existing theories, or the modes 
of pursuing the ends of life. They stand pre- 
cisely where stood their sires and their grand- 



60 MANLY CHARACTER. 

sires in times past. If all men had been 
like them, the great improvements of this 
wonderful age would never have existed. We 
should have been without the steam-engine, 
the spinning-jenny, the magnetic telegraph, 
and a thousand other facilities for the progress 
of the world. 

Vigour of reasoning, quickness of percep- 
tion, and what may be called a practical 
character, depend upon a vigorous imagination. 
That which stimulates the mind to activity, 
and hastens it on in its processes of connecting 
causes and effects, antecedents and sequents, 
and enables it to bring together the more 
distant relations, must certainly be a highly 
important element in all processes of reason- 
ing, and should have special attention in sys- 
tems of education. The effectiveness of the 
reasoning powers will much depend upon an 
early and proper training of the imagination. 

Where there is a natural or constitutional 
deficiency in the power of imagination, ib 
may be greatly aided by suitable excitement. 
Reading the poets — Homer, Virgil, Milton, 
Cowper, Pollok, and others similar in their 
character — will be found extremely useful to 
this end. Such minds want the guidance of 
wise counsellors, who understand their neces- 
sities, and are qualified to give them timely 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 61 

and effective aid. Without the proper aid, 
their improvement will be slow, and it will 
be a wonder if they are no better than blanks 
in the world to the end of life. 

The sympathies of the human heart, upon 
which so much depends in our intercourse 
with society, depend much upon the imagina- 
tion. Properly to feel sympathy for the suf- 
fering, we must put ourselves into their 
circumstances, or imagine ourselves to be 
similarly situated. We must make their 
troubles our own ; their anguish of spirit must 
be transferred to our own souls. Then wo 
shall know what it is to love another as we 
love ourselves. We shall sympathize with 
the mass, and bear the burdens of our breth- 
ren who groan under the chasteniug rod of 
the Almighty. The more fully we can con- 
ceive a transfer of circumstances with the 
afflicted, the more lively will be our sympa- 
thy, and the more prompt and effective our 
interference for their relief. 

A great amount of our happiness arises from 
the imagination. The strength of faith and 
the vividness of hope are much assisted by 
the power of making their objects real. Keal- 
izing spiritual things is simply a vivid con- 
ception of them. " Faith is the substance of 
things hoped for, the evidence of things not 



G2 MANLY CHARACTER. 

seen." The realization of the things which 
are distant and not seen, in this case, is a 
lively conception, inspired and strengthened 
by the Spirit. How much of spiritual enjoy- 
ment depends upon this, I need not now say. 

The same is true of all those natural de- 
lights which arise from hope, in relation to 
our worldly prospects. Be these hopes ever 
so well founded, it is the work of the imagina- 
tion to make the objects of them a present 
reality, and to make them a source of pleas- 
ure. "Without hope, the stimulus to exer- 
tion is wanting. It is hope that keeps the 
heart whole. The man of business, the scholar, 
the politician — indeed all classes of men — are 
influenced by hope at every step, and without 
it society would become a dead mass. An 
active, well-regulated imagination derives en- 
joyment from the future — looks through all 
time to come, and into eternity, with bright 
hopes, and indulges in glorious anticipations 
of personal bliss and the elevation of the race. 
The brightest visions of God's holy prophets 
are but the elevation and inspiration of the 
imagination by the Spirit of God, which seems 
to make the future present, and imparts to it 
the assurance of certainty. 

After these views of the nature and import- 
ance of the imagination, it remains that some- 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 63 

thing be said upon its morbid state, and the 
manner in which that state may be guarded 
(against. This is a matter of great practi- 
cal importance, and will be treated at some 
length. 

A diseased imagination is sometimes the 
offspring of physical causes, and, consequently, 
is not always to be prevented by any mode or 
amount of mental discipline. In a healthy 
condition of the physical system, the functions 
of the imagination become disturbed through 
excessive excitement or over-action. Some 
casts of mind are far more liable to diseases 
of the imagination than others. Where the 
sensitive predominates over the rational — 
where there is a stronger susceptibility of 
feeling than there is power of reasoning — any 
considerable excitement of the imagination is 
likely to disturb the balance of the mind, 
and give it an undue preponderance. When 
that preponderance becomes strong and de- 
cided, it is followed by certain irregularities, 
which are denominated diseased action. The 
phenomena of diseased imagination are ex- 
ceedingly curious ; and for your instruction, 
and not merely for your amusement, I 
will here introduce several instances of the 
class : — 

" Dr. Gall has extracted from Fodere's 



64 MANLY CHARACTER. 

Memoir of M. Savary : ' A carpenter, forty- 
seven years old, with every appearance of good 
lieal th, was assailed hy a crowd of strange and 
incoherent ideas. He often imagined himself 
fluttering in the air, or traversing smiling 
fields, apartments, old chateaus, woods, and 
gardens, which he had seen in his infancy. 
Sometimes he seemed to he walking in public 
courts, places, and other spots that were known 
to him. While at work, the moment he was 
going to strike his axe at a given place, an 
idea would pass through his head, make him 
lose sight of his object, and he would strike 
somewhere else. He once rose at midnight 
to go to Versailles, and found himself there 
without being sensible of having made this 
journey. None of these hallucinations pre- 
vent the patient from reasoning correctly. 
He is astonished, and laughs at himself for 
all these fantastic visions, but still is un- 
able to withdraw himself from their influ- 
ence.' " 

Madam de Stael gives us the following 
curious account of Eousseau, the great infidel 
philosopher : — " Sometimes he would part with 
you with all his former affection ; but, if an 
expression had escaped you which might bear 
an unfavourable construction, he would recol- 
lect it, examine it, exaggerate it, perhaps 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 65 

dwell upon it for a month, and conclude by a 
total breach with you. Hence it was that 
there was scarce a possibility of undeceiving 
him : for the light which broke in upon him 
at once was not sufficient to efface the wrong 
impressions which had taken place so gradu- 
ally in his mind. It was extremely difficult, 
too, to continue long on an intimate footing 
with him. A word, a gesture, furnished him 
with matter of profound meditation; lie con- 
nected the most trifling circumstances like so 
many mathematical propositions, and con- 
ceived his conclusions to be supported by the 
evidence of demonstration. 

" I believe (she further remarks) that im- 
agination was the strongest of his faculties, 
and that it had almost absorbed all the rest. 
He dreamed rather than existed, and the 
events of his life might be said more properly 
to have passed in his mind than without him 
— a mode of being, one should have thought, 
that ought to have secured him from distrust, 
as it prevented him from observation ; but 
the truth was, it did not hinder him from 
attempting to observe — it only rendered his 
observations erroneous. That his soul was 
tender, no one can doubt after having read 
his works ; but his imagination sometimes 
interposed between his reason and his affec- 



bb MANLY CHARACTER. 

tions, and destroyed their influence: he ap- 
peared sometimes void of sensibility, but it 
was because he did not perceive objects such 
as they were. Had he seen them with our 
eyes, his heart would have been more affected 
than ours." — Upham's Disordered Mental Ac- 
tion. 

Dean Swift tells us of " a gentleman of 
his acquaintance, who was ill-used by a mercer 
in town," and who " wrote him a letter, in an 
unknown hand, to give him notice that care 
had been taken to convey a slow poison into 
his drink, which would infallibly kill him in 
a month ; after which the man began in 
earliest to languish and decay, by the mere 
strength of imagination, and would certainly 
have died, if care had not been taken to unde- 
ceive him before the jest went too far." 

M. Chabanon says : — " Twice, when listening 
to the notes of the organ, or to sacred music, 
have I thought myself transported into heav- 
en ; and this vision had something so real in 
it, and I was so carried out of myself while it 
lasted, that the actual presence of the objects 
could not have had upon me a stronger effect." 
— Philosophy of Magic, vol. ii, p. 73. 

I have known many curious instances of the 
same class, one or two of which may be ad- 
missible in this place. At one of my appoint- 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. G7 

menu, more than thirty years since, there 
was a great awakening among the people. 
A wicked young man, who was engaged in 
making shingles, some six miles from the 
settlement, in a dense pine wood, saw the 
Devil, with his cloven foot, fiery eyes, and 
barbed tail ! The old dragon came into his 
shanty in the night, and conducted himself 
after such a sort that the poor solitary occu- 
pant was well-nigh frightened out of his wits. 
The fright was succeeded by penitence, and 
penitence by a sound conversion. 

Not long after, one of the companions of 
this young man, after being out late at night 
gambling, having retired to bed, was visited 
by the same terrible figure, who brandished 
around the room his pitchfork, and then 
pulled the cards from his hat, where they 
lay rolled up in a silk handkerchief, and 
scattered them over the floor. He, too, was 
frightened into seriousness, and told me the 
story. 

A short time after this I visited the place, 
and after I had retired to bed, late in the 
evening, I was hastily sent for to visit a 
woman who had also seen the old Wicked One. 
When I entered the room I found her in a 
great fright, trembling and screeching, and 
clinging to her husband, as if she expected 



68 MANLY CHARACTER. 

every moment to be dragged away to her 
account. I prayed with her, and tried to 
quiet her mind, but to very little purpose. 
She imagined she saw a huge black figure 
come down the chimney, and gaze at her with 
his fiery eyes, and whichever way she turned 
he seemed to be before her. 

The first was a case of sound conversion, 
and was, according to my views, none the less 
an instance of a vision of the imagination. 
The other two soon recovered themselves, and 
became as careless as ever. The report of the 
first case was the occasion of the other two — 
serving as the means of exciting their imagi- 
nation, and temporarily both of overturning 
reason and deceiving the senses. 

In the explanation I give of these singular 
facts, 1 by no means would cast a doubt over 
the existence of evil spirits, or the personal 
existence of the great arch-fiend — the facts 
are settled in the Scriptures; but supposing 
Satan a reasoning being, and seeing no 
grounds for believing that he would so ap- 
pear to his children as to frighten them from 
his service, I cannot consider these as in- 
stances of his real personal appearance. The 
facts are capable of explanation upon the 
known laws of mind ; and this mode of ex- 
plaining what transpires is always to be pro- 



INTELLECTUAL MAXTIOOD. 69 

ferred when it is possible. If, as I suppose, 
they were the result of an excited imagina- 
tion, then they are specimens of the power of 
conscience, through the fancy, to inflict the 
most fearful torture. How came these per- 
sons liable to be haunted by such terrible 
visions, if it were not true that they had deep 
convictions of having provoked the divine dis- 
pleasure, and exposed themselves to be hur- 
ried away to the place " prepared for the Devil 
and his angels ?" And if conscience may send 
such a light through the soul as to present to 
the mind of the sinner such fearful forms of 
merited vengeance, while he lives upon earth, 
what will be its power in another world, when 
it will act in the light, of eternity? Such 
alarms as this inward monitor now awakens 
in the sinner's imagination, are the mere 
shadows of the realities which are before him. 
There is another form in which diseases of 
the imagination are developed, which has its 
origin in physical derangement. This form 
is denominated hypochondria. There are 
many amusing accounts in the books, of the 
curious freaks of the imagination under the 
influence of this disease ; but we will mention 
one, which has never been published. An 
old friend of ours, at intervals was awfully 
afflicted with this malady. As he was re- 



70 MANLY CHARACTER. 

turning home, on a certain occasion, all at 
once he acquired, as lie supposed, an enor- 
mous size. He was as tall as the trees, and 
looked down from this great elevation upon 
the top of his own house. Now, thought he, 
I must live the rest of my life out of doors, 
for I cannot get into the house. He plodded 
his way along, in sad case, through the gate, 
and out came his little grandson, shouting, 
" Here comes grandpa !" and, in the twink- 
ling of an eye, he collapsed into his natural 
dimensions. 

We arrange under this same category the 
phenomena of ghost-seeing, second-sight, and 
all of reality there is in the wonderful influ- 
ences of mesmerism. The imagination he- 
comes heated and disordered, and hence the 
strange impressions, revelations, and what 
not. 

The explanation of these phenomena is 
this : the imagination hecomes more active 
than the reason, or even the senses. Hence, 
the impressions of the imagination are not 
corrected, as they are, when in but an ordi- 
nary state of activity, by the reason and the 
senses. The victim of this disordered state 
of mind is sure that all his impressions are 
true, and declares, most sincerely, that he 
sees and hears what really has no existence ; 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 71 

and the ignorant stare, and know not what in 
the world to make of it. 

The imagination often controls both the 
will and muscular motion. Its power over 
the nervous system is most marvellous. I 
can, however, give no more illustrations, but 
must leave you to read for yourselves, in 
works on psychology and mental philosophy, 
whatever may be necessary to a complete 
view of the subject. 

The instances given above clearly belong- 
to the head of diseased imagination. There 
is another class of cases, somewhat modi tied, 
of equal importance in a practical point of 
view, to which I shall now call your atten- 
tion. They are cases of unduly excited imagi- 
nation. 

One instance of this class is that of an 
inequality of mind, or a want of due balance 
— an exclusive devotion to one idea. The 
men of this class mount some particular 
hobby, and ride it to death — or, rather, ride 
it till they kill themselves. In their imagina- 
tions, they make the welfare of the race, and 
the very existence of society, to depend upon 
their favourite scheme. 

Another instance of this class may be de- 
nominated castle-building. Concocting im- 
practicable schemes, and dreaming over them 



/ '2 MANLY CHARACTER. 

night and day, until the soher realities of life 
become utterly insignificant, and the mind is 
only in its element while in the midst of a 
world of pleasant day-dreams and gorgeous 
pictures of wealth, honour, and glory. De- 
lightful fancies dazzle the sight, and splendid 
fictions crowd the brain, a series of splendid 
visions pass before the mind and excite the 
sensibilities ; this is thought to be possible, 
that probable, and the other quite certain. 
Reason is dethroned, and soon the wretched 
dreamer is deemed a fair candidate for 
the mad house. 

Still another form in which the high excite- 
ment and undue action of the imagination show 
themselves, is that of reckless speculations. A 
man of business flourishes for a while, and 
set ins to be in the high road to wealth; a 
pressure in the money market comes on, and 
he fails for a hundred thousand dollars. Some 
set him down for a regular-built scoundrel ; 
while those who are alone competent to j udge 
in the case, consider him a victim of baseless 
calculations, — an adventurous genius, — one 
whose imagination had become rampant, and 
had turned reason and common-sense out of 
doors. 

When the imagination is excited by strong 
temptations to do wrong, the moral sense, or 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 73 

conscience, is liable to be undermined. When 
conscience becomes blinded, or diseased, by 
some cause, which leads the imagination 
astray, then it may be said to be corrupted. 
It is probably true that all vicious actions, 
which are deliberately done, are first acted 
over in the imagination. The images of a cer- 
tain species of wrong take possession of the 
imagination, and are there mixed up with a 
thousand sweets ; the bait is gilded, and 
assumes every pleasant hue ; a scene is 
created in which the lights are placed in 
bold relief, while the shades are far in the 
background, scarcely visible. The imagina- 
tion is occupied with this scene, and by it 
excited and heated, day after day, and, per- 
haps, for years, before the dreadful result 
develops itself. 

The public mind is often shocked by in- 
stances of outrageous wickedness, perpetrated 
by individuals of considerable respectability. 
Funds are embezzled, virtue is assaulted, or 
a murder is committed, by some one not sus- 
pected capable of any such outrages upon 
morals. If the history of the mind and 
heart of the transgressor could be read, it 
would be seen that the immediate occasion of 
the oflPence merely brought out, or matured, 
what had been a thousand times enacted in the 



74 MANLY CHARACTER. 

imagination. The real fall was not sudden, 
but gradual, having its incipient stages and 
its growth in the workings of the imagi- 
nation. 

I once read the confession of a murderer 
which was something like this. He had led a 
rather loose life, but had not distinguished 
himself for any flagrant offence. Unaccount- 
ably to himself he was seized with the idea of 
murder ; the idea haunted him until it was 
invested with a sort of charm. It finally be- 
gat a desire to do the deed, but it was long 
before he formed the fatal purpose. After 
some years of cherishing this imagination, 
circumstances transpired which furnished oc- 
casion for carrying it into effect, and then he 
committed the fatal act. Perhaps all the 
while the seed of death was vegetating in this 
man's mind, he was taken for anything but a 
murderer. 

I have no idea that any one falls all at once 
from a high state of religion or virtue to the 
low depths of iniquity. There may indeed be 
instances of sad departure from the rules of 
rectitude, under the influence of surprise ; but 
these are exceedingly rare. Most of the terri- 
ble apostasies from religious purity and from 
social decency are long in reaching maturity ; 
and the sin by which disgrace and ruin come, 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 75 

have been frequently enacted in the mind. As 
this is the most unobserved and inscrutable of 
all the departments of moral character, it is 
the first point to be assailed, and the first sur- 
rendered to the enemy. 

The obvious reflection suggested by all these 
instances of diseased, heated, and vitiated im- 
agination, is that it is of the greatest import- 
ance, especially for a young man, to avoid the 
causes which work such perversions of the 
soul ; several of these I will now proceed to 
notice. 

Bad associations, familiarity with scenes of 
vice, have a tendency to excite and corrupt the 
heart. The images of such scenes will remain 
in the mind long after the time of observing 
them, and will furnish materials for it to prey 
upon. The very memory of them is danger- 
ous, but their constant presence in the imagi- 
nation is certain to make impressions upon the 
moral feelings which will be more or less in- 
jurious, and which may break over all the bar- 
riers of conscience. 

Corrupt conversation — profane or obscene 
language — will be productive of the same evil 
influences as corrupting scenes. That young 
man who listens to the ribaldry of the vulgar 
exposes himself to the influence of a cause 
which may ultimately plunge him into the 



/ MANLY CHARACTER. 

mire. Words, like things, fasten themselves 
upon the memory, and furnish the materials 
for conceptions, which, by the laws of associa- 
tion, may be wrought up into pictures, and 
exercise a mighty influence over the char- 
acter. 

A more fruitful source of undue excitement 
and corruption is bad books. Corrupt litera- 
ture is the most fruitful source of mischief, be- 
cause it comes into contact with the mind in 
secret, when free from the restraints of public 
sentiment or the delicacy which influences the 
mind while in the presence of society. Its im- 
pressions are deeper than those of observation 
or conversation, because they may be held 
longer before the mind ; they are not so fugi- 
tive and transient, but are kept in their posi- 
tion until, like the solar burning-glass, con- 
centrating their rays upon one single point, 
they produce combustion. 

The class of publications which are the most 
insidious, and consequently the most danger- 
ous, is that of popular novels. These are 
properly ivorks of imagination. They detail 
imaginary scenes, and are designed to excite 
the imagination of the reader. When the 
imagery of these compositions is so extrava- 
gant as to be false to nature, and when they 
are of a licentious or of an infidel character 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. t i 

they are "evil, only evil, and that continually." 
Even the better class of novels are often ex- 
ceedingly mischievous. Sensitive minds — and 
mos< young minds are so — are always too highly 
excited by the extraordinary circumstances of 
the tale. The effect is to give the imagina- 
tion a preponderance over the reason. The 
following- sentiments from Dean Swift, him- 
self the author of strange and injurious ro- 
mances, are worthy of consideration : — 

11 When a man's fancy gets astride on his 
reason, when imagination is at cuffe with the 
. and common understanding, as well 
as common-sense, is kicked out of doors, the 
first proselyte he makes is himself; and when 
that is once compassed, the difficulty is not so 
great in bringing over others — a strong de- 
lusion always operating from without as vigor- 
ously as from within. For cant and vision are 
to the ear and the eye the same that tickling 
is to the touch. Those entertainments and 
pleasures we most value in life, are such as 
dupe and play the wag with the senses. 
With relation to the mind and understanding 
it is manifest what mighty advantages fiction 
has over truth ; and the reason is just at our 
elbow — because imagination can build nobler 
scenes and produce more wonderful revolu- 
tions than fortune or nature will be at ex- 



78 MANLY CHARACTER. 

pense to furnish." — Digression Concerning 



About to the same purpose are the follow- 
ing paragraphs from two of the greatest 
thinkers of any past age. John Foster says : 
M The influence of this habit of dwelling on the 
beautiful fallacious forms of imagination will 
accompany the mind into the most serious 
speculations, or rather musings, on the real 
world, and what is to be done in it, and ex- 
pected ; as the image which the eye acquires 
from looking at any dazzling object still ap- 
pears before it wherever it turns. The vulgar 
materials that constitute the actual economy 
of the world will rise up to its sight in fictitious 
forms, which it cannot disenchant into plain 
reality, nor will even suspect to be deceptive. 
It cannot go about with sober, rational inspec- 
tion, and ascertain the nature and value of all 
things around it. Indeed, such a mind is not 
disposed to examine with any careful minute- 
ness the real condition of things. It is con- 
tent with ignorance, because environed with 
something more delicious than such knowledge 
in the paradise which imagination creates. 
In that paradise it walks delighted, till some 
imperious circumstance of real life call it 
thence, and gladly escapes thither again when 
the avocation is past. There everything is 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. < \) 

beautiful and noble as could be desired to form 
the residence of an angel. If a tenth part of 
the felicities that have been enjoyed, the great 
actions that have been performed, the benefi- 
cent institutions that have been established, 
and the beautiful objects that have been seen 
in that happy region, could have been imported 
into this terrestrial place, what a delightful 
thing it would have been to awake each morn- 
ing to see such a world once more." 

To the same purpose Dr. Johnson says : " To 
indulge the power of fiction, and send imagina- 
tion out upon the wing, is often the sport of 
those who delight too much in silent specula- 
tion. He who has nothing external that can 
divert him must find pleasure in his own 
thoughts, and must conceive himself what he 
is not, — for who is pleased with what he is ? 
He then expatiates in boundless futurity, and 
culls from all imaginable conditions that which 
for the present moment he should most desire ; 
amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, 
and confers upon his pride unattainable do- 
minion. The mind dances from scene to scene, 
unites all pleasures in all combinations, and 
riots in delights which nature and fortune, 
with all their bounty, cannot bestow. In time, 
some particular train of ideas fixes the atten- 
tion ; all other intellectual gratifications are 



80 MANLY CHARACTER. 

rejected ; the mind, in weariness of leisure, re- 
curs constantly to the favourite conception, 
and feasts on the luscious falsehood whenever 
she is offended with the bitterness of truth. 
By degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed ; 
she grows first imperious, and in time despotic. 
Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false 
opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes 
in dreams of rapture or of anguish," — Masselas. 
You will excuse one more authority upon 
this subject, as I am now upon debated ground, 
and it is very important to examine it thor- 
oughly. Dr. Abercrombie says : " There has 
been considerable difference of opinion in re- 
gard to the effects produced upon the mind by 
iu-titious narrative. Without entering mi- 
nutely upon the merits of this controversy, I 
think it may be contended that two evils are 
likely to arise from much indulgence in works 
of fiction. The one is a tendency to give way 
to the wild play of the imagination, — a prac- 
tice most deleterious, both to the intellectual 
and moral habits. The other is a disruption 
of the harmony which ought to exist between 
the moral emotions and the conduct, — a prin- 
ciple of extensive and important influence. In 
the healthy state of the moral feelings, for ex- 
ample, the emotion of sympathy excited by a 
tale of sorrow ought to be followed by some 



INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 81 

efforts for the relief of the sufferer. When 
such relations in real life are listened to from 
time to time without any such efforts, the emo- 
tion gradually becomes weakened, and that 
moral condition is produced which we call 
selfishness, or hardness of heart. Fictitious 
tales of sorrow appear to have a similar ten- 
dency — the emotion is produced without the 
corresponding conduct ; and when this habit 
has been much indulged the result seems to 
be, that a cold and barren sentimentalism is 
produced, instead of the habit of active benevo- 
lence. If fictitious narratives be employed for 
depicting scenes of vice, another evil of the 
greatest magnitude is likely to result from 
them, even though the conduct exhibited 
should be shown to end in remorse, and 
misery ; for by the mere familiarity with vice, 
an injury is done to the youthful mind, which 
is in no degree compensated by the moral at 
the close." — Intellectual Poivers. 

I have quoted the language of four of the 
most notable scholars and writers in the Eng- 
lish language upon the influence of fictitious 
tales upon the condition of the mind. These 
are great authorities; but independent of the 
mere influence of their names upon an import- 
ant question, what they say is so truthful and 
so amply sustained by both facts and philoso- 



82 MANLY CHARACTER. 

phy, that I need scarcely enlarge upon the 
subject. Thus stands the general question of 
the influence of fictitious narrative upon the 
intellectual powers. The question of the in- 
fluence of a class of the romances of our times, 
which constitute so great a portion of the read- 
ing of the people, should be put upon other 
grounds — I refer to those of a licentious char- 
acter. 

That a large portion of the popular novels 
of the day are calculated to debase and cor- 
rupt the imagination, I shall not undertake to 
prove, nor give the names of those which 
I would especially proscribe. I fear, young 
gentlemen, that some of you already are but 
too intimately acquainted with some of them. 
Well is it for that young man who has the 
good fortune to be ignorant of this whole class 
of injurious books ; and should there be any 
who has meddled with this kind of litera- 
ture he has special reason to be thankful 
if he has not been singed while sporting 
with the flames. Would you read such books 
for the useful hints you may find scattered 
through them, and the good moral of which 
the story may be capable, or which may be 
formally drawn from it? You may as well 
go to a sink or sewer to slake your thirst be- 
cause there is pure water mingled with the 






INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 83 

filth. Fly the whole fry of novelists, with 
very few and rare exceptions, as you would 
flee from a gang of wolves, or as you would 
run from the plague. Look abroad upon so- 
ciety and see the wrecks of novel-readers. 
Take the alarm and save yourselves. 

A lesson or two of advice, without enlarge- 
ment, shall close what I have to say upon this 
subject. Avoid strong excitement of the 
imagination ; curb it by reason and conscience ; 
avoid all agencies which have a tendency to 
corrupt it. Be assured that its proper man- 
agement is necessary to the formation of char- 
acter, in the proper sense, manly. 



84 MANLY CHARACTER. 



IV.-EMOTIOXAL MANHOOD. 

" HE THAT HATH NO RULE OVER HIS OWN SPIRIT, IS LIKE 
A CITY THAT IS BROKEN DOWS AND WITHOUT WALLS." — 
PKOV. XXV, 28. 

The art of self-government is so important to 
all the ends of life, that it cannot, by any age, 
be too assiduously cultivated. It is specially 
important, that the discipline of the passions 
should be early commenced, that the power of 
self-control may grow with the growth, and 
strengthen with the strength, until it ripens 
into habit. The young heart is impressible 
as well as excitable, and, by proper training, 
may be moulded into any form, and receive 
any bias. The sensibilities, at this period of 
life, left to run riot, will soon carry away all 
the barriers of reason, and spoil the character, 
making it " like a city that is broken down 
and without walls." 

One of the essential attributes of true man- 
hood, is the supremacy of reason and conscience 
over the passions. Hence, young gentlemen, 
1 propose, in this lecture, to give you some 
aid in your efforts to secure this object, by 
showing its real importance to a manly char- 
acter, and by what means the object is to be 
sought. 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 8o 

111 this discussion, I shall not attempt a 
perfect philosophical analysis of the emotions. 
My object is to give a practical view of the 
subject, which shall aid young men in the 
necessary, but often painful process of con- 
quering themselves ; and consequently it will 
only be necessary to call attention to a few 
of the leading and more prominent suscepti- 
bilities and manifestations of the heart. A 
large class of these may be arranged under 
the head of desires. 

Among our natural desires may be classed 
the animal appetites. 

We have appetites in common with the 
lower grades of animals. These are given us 
for good purposes, being designed by our 
Creator to subserve the ends of life, and being 
in themselves perfectly harmless — the harm 
of their indulgence being in their unlawful 
use or their abuse — it is not a question whether 
they may lawfully seek gratification, but how 
far, and under what circumstances, they may 
be gratified. The irrational animal may in- 
dulge them without any other restraint than 
those of natural instincts, while men can only 
do so within the bounds of reason, or the limits 
prescribed by God in his law. The trans- 
gression of these limits constitutes either glut- 
tony, drunkenness, or libertinism, according 



36 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to the object which they seek, and is always 
a violation of the higher faculties, and, con- 
sequently, is unmanly. What a sad spectacle 
it is to see a young man enslaved by either 
of these vices, and yet how common is the 
sight ! The process of sacrificing manhood to 
the baser passions, is easy and natural. Hence 
the danger, and the necessity of great vigi- 
lance upon the part of the young and inex- 
perienced. Society and social enjoyments, 
not properly guarded, constitute the track 
which leads to the stagnant pool of unbridled 
lust and beastly indulgence. Improper asso- 
ciations are the gins of Satan, in which the 
unwary are taken and ruined. At first a 
little indulgence is all that is thought of, and 
all that is conceded ; but the resolution con- 
quered once, is almost certainly prostrated 
by the next temptation. When the young 
man is solicited to visit the splendid drinking 
saloon, his conscience utters its remonstrances : 
but he says to himself, this is the resort of 
respectable men, and I will only go in now 
for once ; surely there is little harm in step- 
ping into such a place with a friend. He 
does not seem to know that his first entrance 
upon that enchanted ground is the introduc- 
tion to a long chapter, which almost certainly 
follows ; it is the first step in a course which 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 87 

leads, through the filthy kennels which are 
the resort of common drunkards, to the gut- 
ter, and to the drunkard's grave, and the 
drunkard's hell. young man ! shun the 
cup as you would perdition. For one of the 
most truthful descriptions of the miseries and 
ruin of those who lead a life of intemperance, 
see the words of Solomon : " Who hath woe ? 
who hath sorrow? who hath contentions ? who 
hath babbling ? who hath wounds without 
cause ? who hath redness of eyes ? They that 
tarry long at the wine ; they that go to seek 
mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine 
when it is red, when it giveth his colour in 
the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the 
last it biteth like a serpent, and stiugeth like 
an adder." Prov. xxiii, 29-32. The first in- 
stance of incontinence may have been the 
result of surprise or sudden temptation, pre- 
ceded by purposes not to repeat it, and to wash 
away its stains by immediate repentance ; but 
it will be a miracle of mercy if it is not suc- 
ceeded by a life of debauchery and an untimely 
death. Your only safety is in avoiding all 
occasions of sin, and especially the seductive 
arts of those demons in female form, who, 
ruined themselves, seem to take pleasure in 
ruining as many others as possible. On this 
point also I refer you to Solomon. He says : 



88 MANLY CHARACTER. 

" For the lips of a strange woman drop as a 
honey-comb, and her mouth is smoother than 
oil : but her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp 
as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to 
death ; her steps take hold on hell. Lest thou 
shouldest ponder the path of life, her ways 
are movable, that thou canst not know them. 
Hear me now therefore, O ye children, and 
depart not from the words of my mouth. Ke- 
move thy way far from her, and come not 
nigh the door of her house : lest thou give 
thine honour unto others, and thy years unto 
the cruel : lest strangers be filled with thy 
wealth ; and thy labours be in the house of a 
stranger ; and thou mourn at the last, when 
thy flesh and thy body are consumed, and say, 
Bow have I hated instruction, and my heart 
despised reproof; and have not obeyed the 
voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to 
them that instructed me ! I was almost in 
all evil in the midst of the congregation and 
assembly." Prov. v, 3-14. 

Were we mere animals, with no prospect in 
the future but the extinction of consciousness, 
the maxims of prudence would teach us to 
avoid excesses which destroy the capacity of 
the physical system for healthy action, and 
inevitably bring on premature decay and 
death. He who would have health and lon^ 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 89 

life, must " be temperate in all things." We, 
however, have higher motives for rational so- 
briety, than those which appeal to mere self- 
love. We are rational beings, and it is a 
degradation of our nature, a descent from the 
dignity of our position, to plunge into the 
sink of animal gratification. Our reason was 
given us to stand at the helm, and guide the 
ship ; and why should we commit ourselves to 
the fury of the storm, and run the risk of 
eternal shipwreck ? We are destined to live 
forever, and why should we sacrifice the hopes 
of a happy immortality for the paltry grati- 
fication of a moment ? A sailor, at mast-head, 
was observed to falter, and was evidently be- 
coming dizzy, when the officer below cried 
out, " Look aloft 1 " He looked above, and 
his brain was soon settled, and he was safe. 
Young gentlemen, " look aloft." Leave the 
sensual to mere animals, and, as for you, 
seek your honour, happiness, and riches, in 
the spiritual. 

" In your case there are those ' youthful 
lusts, 1 from which, by apostolic injunction, 
you are exhorted to flee. In addition to an 
inflammable and prurient imagination, rash- 
ness and impetuosity of temper, the thought- 
lessness and recklessness of disposition, the 
pride and independence, and the headstrong 



90 MANLY CHARACTER. 

waywardness, which are too common to youth 
— there are the animal appetites and propensi- 
ties which are now coming out in all their 
force ; those promptings of licentiousness and 
impulses of sensuality, to which there are so 
many incentives, and which require so strong 
a restraint hy reason and religion. I mean, 
yuiftjg men, the vices which form the drunkard 
and the debauchee — those illicit gratifications 
which degrade the man into the brute. The 
danger here exceeds all the alarms I can pos- 
sibly give. No warning can be too loud, no 
entreaties too importunate, in regard to this 
peril. Voices from the pulpit, from the hos- 
pital, from the hulks, from the workhouse, 
from the lunatic asylum, from the grave, and 
from the bottomless pit — all unite in saying, 
'Young men, beware of sensuality !' Flee 
from it, as from a serpent or a lion." — James. 

" Thou must chain thy passions down : 

Well to serve, but ill to sway, 

Like the fire, they must obey. 

They are good, in subject state, 

To strengthen, warm, and animate ; 

But if once we let them reign, 

They sweep with desolating train, 

Till they but have a hated name, 

Aruin'd soul, and blacken'd fame." — Eliza Cook. 

Another form of the passion of which I am 
speaking, is a desire of wealth. 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 91 

Earthly treasures have their place and their 
importance. It is our duty, by honest indus- 
try and prudent economy, to seek earthly 
goods — to make and save all that we consis- 
tently can. It might be a blessing to have 
great wealth, and the desire for it, in itself, 
is not sinful. It is when this desire becomes 
excessive, or when it degenerates into " the 
love of money," that it is wrong. This desire 
is usually associated with a desire for the 
possession of what we cannot lawfully have — 
of what belongs to others — this is covetous- 
ness, and " covetousness is idolatry." 

When the love of money becomes a pas- 
sion, and a habit, it destroys all the generous 
emotions of the heart, and constitutes a rrmer. 
The feelings and habits of a miser are usually 
associated with mature years, and often with 
old age. Young men are more exposed to 
an excess of liberality, than to a miserly dis- 
position. Still, it is not certain but the seeds 
of covetousness are often found in the minds 
of the young. Prodigality in expenses, for 
your own gratification, is no evidence that 
you may not finally become mean-spirited and 
miserly. It is nothing but early habits of 
benevolence, of enlarged philanthropy, that 
will effectually secure you against one of the 
meanest of vices when you are old. 



02 MANLY CHARACTER. 

" cursed lust of gold ! when, for thy sake, 
The fool throws up his interest in both worlds ; 
First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come." 

Blair. 

Let your desires for wealth be moderated 
by a conviction that it will increase your re- 
sponsibilities and your dangers ; only desire 
it in legitimate pursuits, honest and useful 
employment, or lawful enterprises. Do not 
desire it inordinately, but let your aspirations 
for earthly treasures be feeble in comparison 
with your thirst for useful knowledge, and 
your desire to do good to your fellow-men. 

Another branch of this subject is a desire 
of power or of influence. 

Power over society may be a means of great 
usefulness, and as such may be lawfully de- 
sired. Like the desire of wealth, it must have 
its limits. Our object in desiring influence 
must not be confined to our own selfish pur- 
poses, nor must this desire be the ruling passion 
of our minds ; when this is the case it consti- 
tutes ambition, and always leads to indirect 
methods for its acquisition. The ambitious 
aspirant will be a prodigal, a hypocrite, a 
knave, anything — that he may gain a name 
and secure the popular favour. 

" I charge thee, fling away ambition ; 

By that sin fell the angels : how can man then,' 

The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 93 

Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 

Corruption wins not more than honesty. 

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, 

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : 

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, 

Thy God's, and truth's." — Shakspeare. 

I hope, young gentlemen, you will never so 
lose your self-respect as to care nothing for the 
good opinion of mankind; but, at the same 
time, I would warn you against that fatal pas- 
sion which would seek personal elevation at 
the expense of honest convictions of truth and 
duty — that Wtmld make you unscrupulous in 
the measures which you use to elevate your- 
selves in the estimation of others and to gain in- 
fluence over them. Never build up yourselves 
at the expense of your neighbours. If you can- 
not rise but upon the ruins of others, be con- 
tent with a low place in society. Never tamper 
with the consciences of men by bribery or flat- 
tery, but always be open, and fair, and gener- 
ous, willing to stand or fall upon your own 
merits — and then, if power and influence come, 
use them as the gifts of God, for the right im- 
provement of which you are responsible to 
him. 

Emulation, or the desire of superiority, the 
desire for the esteem of others, and the desire 
for knowledge, must be governed and limited 
bv similar conditions and considerations as 



94 MANLY CHARACTER. 






those which we have given above, in connexion 
with the desire of wealth and the desire of in- 
fluence. Upon these I shall not enlarge. 

The opposite of desire is fear, and as the due 
regulation of this passion is concerned in mak- 
ing up the character, a brief consideration of 
it will be in place. 

Fear may be considered an animal instinct 
— something man possesses in common with 
mere animals. It is designed by the Creator 
to secure self-preservation ; and, in man. is 
right or wrong, noble or ignoblt, according to 
its degree of in tenseness and the object which 
excites it. Fear is the apprehension of danger, 
or a shrinking from evil. All men naturally 
dread misery, and consequently they fear per- 
sonal harm. This is not ignoble when there 
is real evidence of danger, and when the feel- 
in g is not so intense as to turn us from the 
path of duty, or to unnerve and so disqualify us 
for the necessary exertions to escape the evil 
apprehended or to defend ourselves against it. 
When fear becomes the ruling feeling, and the 
heart loses its power of resistance or endurance, 
cowardice is the consequence. Cowardice is 
sometimes a mere weakness, and at others a 
vice. It is a vice when it turns its victim aside 
from the path of duty. 

" Fear is a most dismal passion : a mind 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 95 

haunted with fear is a most dismal night-piece 
of storm, precipice, ruins, tombs, and appari- 
tions ; it is not content with the compass of 
nature, as if too scanty for evil, but creates 
new worlds for calamity — things that are not. 
But very timorous natures only suffer to this 
degree ; and it is well they do not ; for such a 
fear alone is capable of taking in an ample 
vengeance of an incensed God, insomuch that 
some have thought that hell consisted in the 
severe extremity of this passion only. All 
that have fear have proportionable pain. It 
is an anticipation of evil, and has under its 
banner confusion, supplication, servility, amaze- 
ment, and self-desertion particularly." — Br. 
Mdivard Young. 

There are false notions of courage and cow- 
ardice, which should be early guarded against. 
There is a conventional law which obtains in 
certain circles, called "the law of honour," 
which prescribes, as the remedy for an insult, 
a challenge to mortal combat ; and if the in- 
jured party refuses this mode of redress, or 
the aggressor declines the hostile meeting, in 
either case the delinquent is branded as a 
coivard. All this would be right if this mode 
of settling misunderstandings were not in con- 
flict with the divine law. As it is, conscience 
being the more authoritative rule, if a man 



96 MANLY CHARACTER. 



obeys the impulses of that principle he is not 
to he set down as a coward on that account. 
Rather is not he the coward who is afraid of 
losing cast with self-styled gentlemen, and, 
influenced by that petty passion, having its 
origin in pride and false views of honour, de- 
spises the law of God and the claims of society. 
The duelist is the dastard, and not the man 
who considers God, his country, his family and 
friends, as holding stronger claims upon him 
than an absurd and wicked rule of honour, 
which came down from the barbarous ages and 
can be excused only in savages. 

" The Greeks and Romans who lived before 
the general corruption of their countrymen, 
never dreamed that a duel — which is to be de- 
cided by chance, or, at most, by a skill in fenc- 
ing which they considered as the profession of 
their slaves — was a proper method of justify- 
ing one's self with regard to a reproach, which 
frequently does not at all concern a person's 
bravery. The advantage gained proves only 
that one is a better gladiator than his adver- 
sary, but not that he is exempt from the vice 
with which he was 'charged." — Dr. Dodd's 
Sermons to Young Men. 

The opposites of cowardice are courage and 
fortitude. Courage braves danger, and forti- 
tude endures pain. These are manly virtues, 






EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 07 

and should be cultivated until they grow into 
habits. Their foundation should be self-re- 
speet and conscious rectitude. They should 
show themselves in the forms of unflinching 
integrity, manly confidence, patient endurance, 
and cheerfulness under providential visita- 
tions or the scorn and contempt of wicked or 
foolish men. 

One of the most important of the affections 
is love. 

Virtuous love is a wishing well to and a de- 
light in a worthy object. When it has for its 
object the good, the beautiful, and the true, it 
is morally right, and produces harmony and 
pleasure in the soul. The love of God is piety : 
the love of our fellow-men is philanthropy, 
or benevolence : the love of the miserable is 
mercy or pity : the love of country is patriot- 
ism. To these species of love we may add, as 
not the least important, the love of family — 
embracing the love of parents, brothers, sis- 
ters, companion and children. Upon all these 
objects we may place our affections, and if each 
has its appropriate place in our hearts, one will 
not interfere with another. All are indis- 
pensable, and the whole train follows the su- 
preme love which we owe our Creator, as the 
stream flows from the fountain. 

" It is both a misery and a shame for a man 



98 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to be a bankrupt in love, which he may easily 
pay and be never the more impoverished. I 
will be in no man's debt for good-will ; but 
will at least return every man his owu meas- 
ure, if not with usury. It is much better to 
be a creditor than a debtor in anything, but 
especially of this. Yet of this I will so be 
content to be a debtor that I will always be 
paying it where I owe it, and yet never will 
so have paid it that I shall not owe it more." 

— Bp. mu. 

There can be no true virtue — no act which, 
in the strictest sense, can be characterized as 
virtuous — without a corresponding virtuous 
principle and impulse of the heart. As all 
professions of piety without the love of God 
are vain, so there can be no philanthropy 
without the love of our neighbour, no charity 
without love for the wretched, no patriotism 
without the love of country. As men may be 
very attentive to religious ceremonies, and be 
loud in their professions without a spark of 
grace to save them, so may they contribute 
largely to benevolent purposes without the 
least spark of love for their fellow-men, and 
they may die in the service of their country 
without a particle of patriotism in their hearts. 
To the outward acts, which indicate or usually 
follow love in all these cases, they may be 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 99 

stimulated by pure selfishness. In this case 
their professions of piety are hypocrisy, their 
philanthropy a desire for human applause, 
and their patriotism vain ambition. 

In all good and worthy objects the heart 
should take the lead. Its true impulses, its 
gashing sympathies, should precede and accom- 
pany all our outward actions. Nothing can 
supply the lack of an honest and a feeling- 
heart. A young man of a cold, hollow heart, 
is not capable of a noble and manly course of 
conduct. Hollow professions of good-will and 
interested displays of philanthropy, or patriot- 
ism, or charity, will not long impose upon the 
public ; and when the mask is removed the 
little soul shows itself to wonderful disadvan- 
tage. Large-heartedness and nobleness of 
soul depend upon the principle of love for the 
race, and stamp the character with true dig- 
nity. 

"Before the sparkling lamps on high 
Were kindled up, and hung around the sky ; 
Before the sun led on the circling hours, 
Or vital deeds produced their active powers ; 
Before the first intelligences strung 
Their golden harps, and soft preludiums sung 
To love, the mighty cause whence their existence sprung, 
The ineffable Divinity 
His own resemblance meets in thee. 
By this thy glorious lineage, thou dost prove 
Thy high descent — for God himself is love." 

Mrs. Eowe. 



100 MANLY CHARACTER. 

That miserable counterfeit of the pure affec- 
tion of love which consists in a passionate fond- 
ness for female society, irrespective of intel- 
lectual or moral worth, is as universally con- 
temptible as it is ruinous. This passion 
usually results from mere animal desires, and 
is directed by no rational principle. What 
sort of a man is he likely to make who is for- 
ever running after the ladies and whispering 
soft nonsense into their ears ? When it is said 
of a gentleman that "he is a great ladies- 
man," it is generally considered rather an 
equivocal compliment. Extravagant affection 
for the sex effeminates the mind and detracts 
from the influence and respectability of a man. 
True regard for the female sex will be dis- 
criminating, and will be productive of the most 
beneficial effects. It will modify the asperi- 
ties of a rough mental structure, soften the 
heart and polish the manners. This is, how- 
ever, quite a different thing from sickening 
fondness for female society, which arises from no 
virtuous principle and proposes no laudable end. 

The affections which I have just been con- 
sidering are called benevolent affections. I 
shall now proceed to consider an opposite 
class, which are called malevolent affections. 

A family of the malevolent affections are 
arranged under the genus anger. 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 101 

Simple anger is not always sinful or un- 
manly. When it rests upon an object which 
is really hateful, is not excessive, or long pro- 
tracted, it is consistent with virtue and relig- 
ion. Hence says St. Paul : "Be ye angry 
and sin not: let not the sun go down upon 
your wrath ; neither give place to the devil." 
Eph. iv, 26, 27. 

Anger, as usually understood, is a violent 
passion, consisting in excessive displeasure, 
arising from some real or supposed injury, 
and a disposition to injure the offending 
party in his person or interests. In this 
sense Solomon uses the word, when he says : 
" Anger rests in the bosom of fools." When 
long continued, anger becomes hatred; and 
when it assumes that form, it expels from the 
heart all its kindly feelings, and turns the 
man into a demon. The bosom which is 
filled with hatred for any of God's rational 
creatures is necessarily wretched. 

Hatred naturally seeks the injury of the 
obnoxious object; and if it is founded upon 
some real or supposed injury, seeks revenge. 
The language of revenge is, I will injure you 
because you have injured me. It is not will- 
ing to leave the punishment of the wrong- 
doer with God, where it belongs, but assumes 
the prerogative of inflicting punishment upon 



102 MANLY CHARACTER. 

transgressors, upon our own motion, without 
the forms of trial and conviction, and giving 
the offender no chance for a proper defence 
before an impartial tribunal. Eevenge is 
essentially anti-social, and tends to the disso- 
lution of society. It is, moreover, contrary 
to the law of God. St. Paul says : " Dearly 
beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather 
give place unto wrath : for it is written, Ven- 
geance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord. 
Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him ; 
if he thirst, give him drink : for in so doing 
thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be 
not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with 
good." Rom. xii, 19-21. 

A man may conquer an enemy by revenge ; 
but he will never save one by this means. If 
he can take delight in human ruin, there 
might be some satisfaction derived from the 
act of taking vengeance ; but this he cannot 
do, unless he has become transformed into the 
image of the destroyer of souls. Is it not far 
more glorious to overcome ourselves by forgiving 
injuries than to overcome our enemies by pun- 
ishing them? An act of revenge is the triumph 
of disordered passion ; while an act of forgive- 
ness is the triumph of reason and love. 

" Nothing doth so befool a man as extreme 
passion. This doth both make them fools 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 103 

which otherwise are not, and show them to be 
fools that are so. Violent passions, if I can- 
not tame them that they may yield to my 
ease, I will at least smother them by conceal- 
ment, that they not appear to my shame." — 
Bp. Hall 

We sometimes hear and read of the sweet- 
jiess of revenge. That sonl which can really 
enjoy the miseries of an enemy, and can in- 
flict them with a relish, must be allied to 
Satan himself. A mad dog is a hateful ani- 
mal ; but a revengeful man is the most hate- 
ful of all objects on earth, and far the most 
dangerous. He consults no rule but -that of 
power. When he is able, he strikes the blow. 
He only awaits the favourable occasion, and 
then he gives vent to his gall in acts of vio- 
lence, and then gloats upon the victim of his 
•hellish passion with fiendish delight, when he 
writhes under the stroke — perhaps welters in 
his blood. What a mere fury is man when 
under the power of this passion ! 



" How rash, how inconsiderate is rage ! 
How wretched, 0, how fatal is our error, 
When to revenge precipitate we run ! 
Revenge, that still with douhle force recoils 
Back on itself, and is its own revenge ; 
While to the short-lived, momentary joy, 
Succeeds a train of wars — an age of torment." 

Frowde. 



104 MANLY CHARACTER. 

I need scarcely urge here that revenge 
proceeds upon the principle that every one 
has a natural and moral right to avenge his 
own wrongs ; and that this principle, car- 
ried out, would not merely "bring us back to 
the barbarous ages, but rupture the bonds 
of society, and make the earth a grand 
slaughter-house. Upon this plan, the strong 
would keep the field until superior strength 
should be brought against them. Society 
could not exist upon this principle. The 
man, then, who purposes revenge in his 
heart, just so far as his influence goes, pur- 
poses making war upon society, and is at 
heart an enemy to the race. 

Envy is another species under this genus. 
It consists in pain and mortification at the 
prosperity or success of others, arising from 
enmity against them. 

" This is the most deformed and most de- 
testable of all the passions. A good man 
may be angry, or ashamed, may love, may 
fear ; but a good man cannot envy. For all 
other passions seek good, but envy evil. All 
other passions propose advantages to them- 
selves ; envy seeks the detriment of others. 
They, therefore, are human ; this is diabolical. 
Anger seeks vengeance for an injury — an in- 
jury in fortune, or person, or honour; but 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 105 

envy pretends no injuries, and yet has an 
appetite for vengeance. Love seeks the pos- 
session of good, fear the flight of evil, but 
envy neither ; all her good is the disadvantage 
of others. Hence, it is most detestable." — 
Dr. aboard Young. 

This is a very common vice of our poor de- 
praved nature. It is even hard for weak 
virtue to suppress this feeling when a rival 
outstrips us. The feeling of envy, though 
reckoned a species of anger, often originates 
in pride, or too high an estimate of ourselves. 
At other times it may arise from selfishness, 
or a disposition to monopolize all the good 
things. Xow, what are we that we should 
lay claim to all the influence, prosperity, 
esteem, respect, and happiness in existence? 
"What meanness there is in a disposition to 
keep all others upon our own level, or a little 
below us ! Is not the world large enough for 
us all? Are the bounties of Heaven so 
stinted that the measure of prosperity which 
is enjoyed by others, necessarily restricts that 
meted out to us ? Need we be the less happy 
because others are the more ? 

How much more noble is it to rejoice at 
the happiness of others, though it far exceed 
anything of which we can boast. Should we 
not feel such a sympathy with our brethren 



106 MANLY CHARACTER. 

that their weal is to us an occasion of rejoicing 
and congratulation ? What a noble principle 
is that which embraces the second table of 
the law : " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as 
thyself. " If we love others as ourselves, we 
must feel a sincere pleasure in their pros- 
perity, and consider that it furnishes us with 
an occasion of gratitude. The world is one 
great family — men are brothers — and the 
welfare of one is just so much towards the 
welfare of the whole. When one member 
suffers, all the rest should suffer with him ; 
and when one rejoices, all should rejoice to- 
gether. 

Envy, like revenge, is essentially anti- 
social, and should be discarded and watched 
against by all who would show themselves 
men, and help on the progress of the world. 
Say in your heart : If there are in the stores 
of Providence good things for others which 
are not for me, let them have them, and God 
be praised for it. 

What comfort can there be in sitting down 
and whining, because we are not the greatest 
and most observed of all. If God had seen 
proper, he would have enabled us to eclipse 
all our contemporaries. " One star differs 
from another in glory," but " every one in 
his own order." The highest peaks of the 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 107 

mountains first catch the lightning, while 
the valleys drink in the refreshing showers. 

Jealousy is another individual of the family 
of angry affections. It consists in a violent 
fear of rivalry, accompanied with hatred, and 
is often the result of disappointed or disor- 
dered love. This passion usually originates 
in self-distrust, or a want of self-respect. 
The man who sets a high value upon himself 
is not predisposed to he affected "by jealousy ; 
but one who is conscious of meanness will he 
always ready to suppose that his near friends 
have found him out, and that, of course, they 
are ready to admit others to a higher place 
in their consideration than himself. A jeal- 
ous disposition is always despised, as it really 
ought to be. As for the evil workings of this 
passion, they need not be mentioned, as they 
are sufficiently notorious. Solomon says : 
" Jealousy is cruel as the grave ;" and the 
history of the most cold-blooded assassina- 
tions, the fruit of this evil tree, abundantly 
illustrate the truth of the assertion. 

One more of the malevolent affections re- 
mains to be noticed, and then I shall have 
done. The master evil of a selfish, wicked 
heart, is pride. 

Pride consists in a false estimate of our own 
character. The term is often used in a good 



108 MANLY CHARACTER. 

sense, for great pleasure, or high satisfaction, 
with any person or thing to which we hold an 
intimate relation. So we sometimes say we 
are proud of our country, proud of our family, 
proud of our friends. If this feeling does not 
degenerate into a species of idolatry, it is not 
wrong. It is not in this sense that I use the 
word when I place it among the vices, hut in 
the sense first given it, which is its natural 
and most ordinary acceptation. 

" Spite of all the fools that pride has made, 

'Tis not on man a useless burden laid ; 

Pride has ennobled some, and some disgraced ; 

It hurts not in itself, but as 'tis placed J 

When right, its view knows none but virtue's bound ; 

When wrong, it scarcely looks an inch around." 

Sttt,t,ttofleet. 

Pride results in pretension, foppishness, 
scorn, display, irritability, and a thousand 
other unworthy accidents of human character, 
which spoil it and make it really contemptible. 
A young man who puts on airs, and affects 
greatness, uncommon wisdom, and superiority 
to all his contemporaries, is always thought to 
possess a shallow brain, and to have seen but lit- 
tle of the world. True dignity of bearing com- 
mands respect ; but a sort of hauteur is quite 
too common among a certain class of young 
men. If they can boast of the accident of 
wealth, they think it a sufficient reason why 



EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 109 

all the world should do them reverence. They, 
consequently, assume haughty airs, and look 
down upon the common ranks of society. 

These wealthy loafers and miserable rich 
coxcombs, are generally as bare of influence as 
they are of brains. They may have interested 
flatterers, but friends they have not. How 
admirably do simplicity and urbanity of man- 
ners appear in men of wealth and high re- 
spectability. Nothing is so strongly indicative 
of a clear head and a sound heart. As illus- 
trations of this reflection, I might point you 
to General Washington, John "Wesley, William 
Penn, the Duke of Wellington, and Prince 
Albert. Who does not feel a higher respect 
for the names of these distinguished men, 
than they would have felt had they been dis- 
tinguished by the haughty bearing of George 
the Fourth, Beau Nash, and a multitude of 
great little men of our own country, who 
really do not deserve to have their names re- 
corded in connexion with the historical charac- 
ters last mentioned. 

My young friends, I beseech you, as you 
would enjoy the respect of all whose respect 
is worth having, as you would exert an influ- 
ence for good in society, as you would enjoy 
a happy contentment with your lot, as you 
would please God — shun pride : " Pride goeth 



110 MANLY CHARACTER. 

before destruction, and a haughty spirit be- 
fore a fall. 7 ' Prov. xvi, 18. 

It will have been perceived that the argu- 
ment of this lecture is directed to the point 
of educating the heart That this process should 
attain considerable maturity before the young 
man is launched upon the turbulent sea of 
active life, is quite evident. To a great ex- 
tent, it is the heart that gives men their 
position in society, giving them power over it 
for good or evil, and interesting them in, or 
isolating them from, its sympathies. One who 
has never learned to govern himself, will 
never be fit to govern others. It is not manly, 
but brutal, to be a slave to the animal pas- 
sions. It is only when the rational predomi- 
nates over the sensitive — standing at the helm, 
and guiding the ship, while the passions keep 
it in motion — that the dignity of true man- 
hood is attained. A man of strong passions, 
without guiding power, is like a locomotive 
let loose under a full head of steam, without 
an engineer or a brakeman. It would move 
off with terrible power, but would certainly 
be dashed to pieces, and, most probably, do 
vast mischief by collision with trains which 
might be pursuing their course in an orderly 
manner, without suspicion of danger. 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. Ill 



V— VOLITIVE MAXHOOD. 

" THE GLORY OF YOUNG ilEX IS THEIR STRENGTH." — PROV. 

xx, 29. 

In the present lecture I shall invite your at- 
tention to the management of the ivill. 

It is not mere physical "strength" which 
gives to " young men" high consideration, 
hut strength of character — a character which 
hears down untoward circumstances, and makes 
itself felt in society. Such a character, to a 
considerable extent, will depend upon the in- 
telligence and self-government which I have 
discussed and enforced in preceding lectures. 
Other characteristics still remain to be consid- 
ered which are of equal importance, and which 
must be early and assiduously cultivated by 
that young man who would be a man of mark, 
and make a strong impression upon his age. 
Perhaps the most striking features of all great 
men, are the strength and proper government of 
the will. To these points I shall now direct 
your attention. 

The will is the voluntary faculty of the 
soul. It is that by which we determine our 
own actions, and shape our course through 
life, and without which we should be mere 



112 MANLY CHARACTER. 

passive tools, the sport of influences without 
ourselves. It is, of course, of primary import- 
ance that this voluntary principle should have 
sufficient strength to overcome obstacles, and 
follow the dictates of the reason wherever they 
may lead. The first point which I shall no- 
tice as necessary to that power of the deter- 
mining principle which should be early ac- 
quired, is energy. 

To energy is necessary a certain amount of 
mental excitability, some imagination, and 
more or less enthusiasm. A stoical, unfeeling 
temperament, may be firm in its position, ob- 
stinately inactive, imperturbable amidst storms 
and tempests, but will never be strong in 
action. It is power of movement, and not qui- 
escence, which constitutes the element of char- 
acter to which I wish to direct your attention. 
It is more the strength of the heaving, moving, 
dashing ocean, than the strength of the rock- 
bound shore which resists the fury of the 
billows, that is here intended. Hence the 
necessity of a heart capable of profound emo- 
tion, of a strong current of feeling, and of a 
high pitch of excitement. The mind that 
merely meddles with logic, that deals in mere 
abstractions, is incapable of a high degree of 
activity. Energy of movement can only be 
found where there is n power of sympathy 



VOLITIYE MAXHOOD. 113 

with surrounding objects, and a susceptibility 

of rapidly imbibing heat from bodies of high 
temperature. A sort of central fire is neces- 
sary, inward impulsions, a susceptibility of 
motives to action, a desire for action — a rising, 
Swelling tide in the heart, which, by its re- 
sistless power, carries along the whole nature 
in a given direction. 

Energy is erroneously supposed never to be 
wanting in youth. It is a want vastly more 
common than is generally supposed. It is 
really the cause of most of the failures made 
by those who are just entering upon the busi- 
ness of active life. It is the want of energy 
of character that makes them the victims of 
foreign influences, and that is the cause of 
their drifting off into unexplored and dan- 
gerous seas — that prevents them from stem- 
ming the tide of temptation, and makes them 
the victims of every species of influence which 
may be brought to bear upon them. 

The next element in the state of the will 
which I am urging, is decision. 

True decision of character is one of the 
noblest traits of a man. It stands in oppo- 
sition to hesitancy, doubt, cowardly apprehen- 
sion of consequences, and to unreasonable 
delays. Indecision is a weakness which spoils 
the character and ruins the prospects of the 



114 MANLY CHARACTER. 

young aspirant for fame or usefulness. He 
who doubts, and hesitates, and delays, when 
the way of action is open before him, may 
have negative excellences, but is wanting in 
the positive elements of true manhood. It is 
the soul that dares to commit itself to a good 
cause, and to hazard danger and toil in its 
defence, that commands the respect of man- 
kind, and is likely to succeed in great and 
worthy enterprises. 

"A man without decision can never be said 
to belong to himself; since, if he dared to 
assert that he did, the puny force of some 
cause, about as powerful, you would have sup- 
posed, as a spider, may make a seizure of the 
hapless boaster the very next moment, and 
contemptuously exhibit the futility of the de- 
terminations by which he was to have proved 
the independence of his understanding and 
his will. He belongs to whatever can make 
capture of him ; and one thing after another 
vindicates its right to him, by arresting him 
while he is trying to go on ; as twigs and 
chips, floating near the edge of a river, are 
intercepted by every weed, and whirled in 
every little eddy. Having concluded on a 
design, he may pledge himself to accomplish 
it — if the hundred diversities of feeling, which 
may come within the week, will let him. His 



VOLl'IIVE MANHOOD. 115 

character precluding all foresight of his con- 
duct, he may sit and wonder what form and 
direction his views and actions are destined 
to take to-morrow ; as a farmer has often to 
acknowledge that next day's proceedings 
are at the disposal of its winds and clouds." 
— Essay on Decision of Character, by John 
Foster. 

The bold resolve is often the only condition 
of success, and is followed by a series of ac- 
tions which were not always contemplated at 
the beginning. It is also usually the precise 
point of difficulty in the way of success. When 
men are once committed to a cause, they feel 
their interests identified with it ; their self- 
respect forbids a retrograde movement. They 
find it comparatively easy to proceed, as they 
feel that public expectation is settled in that 
direction, and know that they would disap- 
point and shock that expectation if they were 
to yield to the pressure of difficulties, and 
retrace their steps. When Caesar passed the 
Kubicon, he said, " The die is cast." So, when 
a man resolves upon a course, or commits him- 
self to a cause, he feels that " the die is cast." 
Caesar did not know how fearful would be 
the struggle, nor how protracted and bloody 
the wars which would follow the simple act 
of passing that small river, nor did he care. 



116 MANLY CHARACTER. 

Whatever the consequences might he, he de- 
termined to brave them. He had settled a 
question, and had publicly, and before the 
world, commenced to act upon it, thereby 
giving the evidence that he was prepared for 
the consequences, whatever they might be. 

John Foster — in the invaluable Essay which 
has been quoted above — very properly ob- 
serves, that " to know how to obtain a deter- 
mination, is one of the first requisites and 
indications of a rationally decisive character." 
That knowledge is to be acquired by intel- 
lectual training. It will be found that pa- 
tient thought, and thorough examination, are 
necessary prerequisites for such a determi- 
nation. Marked characters may seem to 
form their determinations with great haste ; 
but if the whole were known, it would appear 
that the way had first been well prepared, 
and every possible bearing of the subject well 
considered. A determination is quite a dif- 
ferent thing from a sudden impulse. It is 
the crisis of action which the mind reaches 
after a process — perhaps a long process — of 
induction. Hence it does not go and comei 
like the visions of fancy, but it is the begin-! 
ning of a series of acts and movements which 
pause for nothing that may oppose. 

All our resolves should have a definite ob- 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 117 

ject and aim. Archbishop Leighton says : 
u With respect to final aim and end, the 
greater part of mankind live at hazard. 
They have no certain harbour in view, nor 
direct their course to any fixed star. But to 
him that knoweth not the port to which lie is 
bound, no wind can be favourable ; neither 
can he who has not yet determined at what 
mark he is to shoot, direct his arrow aright." 
It is also essential to a decided character 
that determinations should be immediately 
carried out. There is nothing which more 
certainly indicates feebleness of purpose than 
delay. He who waits for a convenient season 
in which to carry out his purposes is but half 
resolved. The greatness of that wonderful 
character, Napoleon Bonaparte, very much 
consisted in the promptness and rapidity with 
which he carried out his purposes. He looked 
over the ground, he calculated the chances, 
he formed his plan, he resolved; and almost 
instantly his camp was electrified: all was 
stir and confusion for an hour, and then the 
vast army was in motion. Before his ene- 
mies dreamed of it, he had passed the most 
formidable barriers, and was in their midst. 
He never dozed over half-formed purposes. 
Action followed quickly upon the heels of 
determination. This, perhaps, more than 



118 MANLY CHARACTER. 

any other one thing, gave him the character 
of the most decided and head-strong com- 
mander that ever marched into the field of 
mortal strife. 

When the judgment is convinced, and the 
feelings are aroused, then is the time for 
action. " Strike while the iron is hot," is 
an old and true maxim. As says Foster : 
" The whole measure of passion of which any 
one is capable, is not more than enough to 
supply interest and energy for the required 
practical exertions ; therefore as little as pos- 
sible of this earthly flame should be expended 
in a way that does not augment the force of 
action. But nothing can less contribute or 
be more destructive to vigour of action than 
protracted anxious fluctuations, through reso- 
lutions adopted, rejected, resumed, suspended ; 
while yet nothing causes a greater expense 
of feeling. The heart is fretted and exhaust- 
ed by being subjected to an alternation of con- 
trary excitements, with the ultimate mortify- 
ing consciousness of their contributing to no 
end." 

Upon the other hand, prompt action leaves 
room for other advance purposes, and thus 
passing from stage to stage of a process, life 
is a series of successes, and the mind is con- 
stantly in a state of healthy activity. Using 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 119 

up our mental excitement as fast as it is 
generated, the laboratory of the heart becomes 
increasingly active, and the product increases 
in the same proportion. Having gained a 
reputation tor decision of character, the com- 
munity begin to expect of us promptness, 
bo tli in the purpose and the action ; and our 
self-respect lends us aid in prosecuting our 
purposes, and victory over the most formi- 
dable difficulties becomes almost a matter of 
course. 

Several hinder ances in the way of decision 
may now be noticed. Self-distrust often pre- 
vents the formation of the decisive purpose. 
A certain amount of self-confidence is abso- 
lutely necessary to decision of character. He 
who distrusts himself should not complain of 
the want of confidence in him on the part of 
others. I do not discourage a due degree of 
modesty, or a sense of our dependence on 
God, but too low an estimate of your own 
powers, and so feeble a faith in yourselves 
that you can venture nothing upon the credit 
of your own resources. 

Opposition prevents feeble minds from de- 
cision. If all the world were on the side of 
their contemplated purposes, they would re- 
solve at once ; but perhaps the greater por- 
tion of the world is on the opposite side. 



120 MANLY CHARACTER. 

Their purposes are too feeble, their souls of 
too soft a texture, to bear the scorn of the 
multitude. They will fall in with the wake 
of the world, and " follow the multitude," 
though they know it is " to do evil." Fire 
melts wax, and hardens clay; and so the 
very same opposition which overcomes the 
purposes and the convictions of some, 
strengthens the resolution of others. Op- 
position is an excellent discipline for a stern, 
strong will. It gives it the exercise which is 
necessary to preserve and increase its power 
— a fixedness which nothing can overcome. 

A regard for public sentiment often over- 
balances the demands of God and of con- 
science. Men inquire, not what is duty, but, 
What is public opinion? They forget that 
this is no standard of right; and besides, 
that it is the most changeable thing in this 
changing world. The public sentiment of 
to-day may be the opinion of a hated and 
proscribed minority to-morrow. One day 
the multitude spread their garments in the 
way before Christ, and cried, " Hosanna to 
the son of David !" and on another they 
cried, " Crucify him ! crucify him !" And 
yet this same variable vacillating thing, 
called public sentiment, tyrannizes over thou- 
sands, and paralyzes all their energies. It 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 121 

is nothing short of contemptible cowardice 
and meanness to be such a slave to the 
opinion of the multitude ; and yet the strong- 
est have need to be fortified against it. How 
much to be admired are the noble sentiments 
of Mansfield, when threatened by a mob, and 
in danger of being torn to pieces by an infu- 
riated multitude, for the course he took in 
trying a case. Says he : " I wish popularity ; 
but it is that popularity which follows, not 
that which is run after ; it is that popularity 
which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice 
to the pursuits of noble ends by noble imam. 
I will not do that which my conscience tells 
me is wrong, upon this occasion, to gain the 
huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of all 
the papers which come from the press. I 
will not avoid doing that which I think is 
right, though it should draw on me the whole 
artillery of libels — all that falsehood and 
malice can invent, or the credulity of a de- 
luded populace can swallow. I can say, with 
a great magistrate upon an occasion, and 
under circumstances not unlike, ' I was al- 
ways of opinion that reproach acquired by 
well-doing was no reproach, but an honour/ " 
Another illustration of the sublimity of the 
daring resolve may be seen in the case of 
Luther, when he was summoned by the Em- 



1 22 MANLY CHARACTER. 

peror Charles V. to appear at the Diet of 
Worms. Some of the great reformer's friends 
cautioned him against attending the Diet, 
referring him to the trickery which was prac- 
tised in the cases of John Huss and Jerome of 
Prague. The memorable reply of the great 
reformer was : " I would go to Worms though 
there were as many devils there as there are 
tiles upon the houses." 

Another instance of decision and noble 
daring is one which stands out prominently 
in the history of the world, and will never 
cease to command the admiration of man- 
kind — that is, the Declaration of American 
Independence — an act which, under the cir- 
cumstances, stands unrivalled in the sublimity 
of its sentiments and spirit, and especially as 
an exhibition of decision and strength of char- 
acter on the part of the American fathers 
of 1776. 

The language of Patrick Henry, in the 
Convention of Virginia, when the question of 
submission to the wrongs of the mother- 
country, or resistance by force, agonized all 
hearts, is a noble expression of decision of 
character. Said he : " If we wish to be free 
— if we mean to preserve inviolate those ines- 
timable privileges for which we have been so 
long contending — if we mean not baselv to 



VnLTTIVE MANHOOD. 123 

abandon the noble struggle in which we have 
been so long engaged, and which we have 
pledged ourselves never to abandon until the 
glorious object of our contest shall be ob- 
tained, we must light ! I repeat it, sir, we 
must fight! ! An appeal to arms, and to the 
God of hosts, is all that is left us. 

"It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. 
Gentlemen may cry, Peace ! peace ! but there 
is no peace. The war is actually begun ! the 
next gale that sweeps from the north will 
bring to our ears the clash of resounding 
arms ! Our brethren are already in the 
field. Why stand we here idle ? What is it 
that gentlemen would have ? Is life so dear, 
or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the 
price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Al- 
mighty God ! I know not what course others 
may take ; but as for me, give me liberty or 
give me death." What grandeur, what ma- 
jesty there is in these words ! It is not so 
much the eloquence of the language, as it is 
the power of the high resolve which produced 
it, that excites admiration. The circum- 
stances were of the most interesting charac- 
ter. The Convention were hesitating between 
action and inaction — submission and resist- 
ance. They were half dead with anxiety lest 
the impetuous orator should commit himself 



124 MANLY CHARACTER. 

by some rash and treasonable expression. 
They were merely prepared to look at the 
aspect of affairs, and try some new expe- 
dient to obtain their rights without taking up 
the sword. Cardinal de Eentz says : " Timor- 
ous minds are much more inclined to delib- 
erate than to resolve." The great orator 
waits not their tardy motion, but, in thunder 
tones, announces his determination to die 
rather than be a slave. 

In these instances, the true dignity of man- 
hood stands out in bold relief, and shows it- 
self to best advantage. Without a portion 
of the same power of determination, in the 
most dubious circumstances, which here ex- 
hibits itself, there is a capital deficiency in 
the elements of character. 

The next attribute of character in con- 
nexion with the will, which I would notice, is 
firmness. 

Firmness is manifested in invincible con- 
stancy under temptations. Decision of char- 
acter implies action under disadvantages and 
perils, while firmness consists in remaining 
constant under strong temptations to depart 
from the line of duty or propriety. The two 
tilings originate in the same qualities of 
heart, but differ only in the circumstances 
which call them forth. 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 125 

The temptations which assail our firmness 
are those which appeal to our avarice, our 
fears, our inclinations, our pride, or our am- 
bition. Strength of will to resist all tempta- 
tions to depart from the line of duty is one of 
the prominent attributes of fully-developed 
manhood. It is important for a young man 
to exercise his power of resisting evil influences 
early, as he cannot assure himself that they 
will not assail him until long experience shall 
have fortified him against them. Youth is 
peculiarly exposed to temptation, and yet is 
not guarded by long and well-established 
habits of resistance. Neither have the young 
the opportunity of long drilling in the arts of 
war before the battle begins ; but they have 
to study the tactics of the enemy and the most 
successful methods of meeting him, in the very 
heat of the conflict. Hostilities commence 
while you, young gentlemen, are as yet un- 
taught in the arts of your adversaries, and if 
you are foolish enough to be overtaken with- 
out your armour on, or to be found upon the 
enemy's ground, you will die ingloriously, 
without the first manly effort to bring the foe 
to the dust. It is a question of great moment 
how you shall secure yourself against early 
defeat and acquire the power to resist the 
numerous formidable assaults which may be 



126 MANLY CHARACTER. 

made upon your virtue as you pass on to ma- 
ture manhood. 

Just at this point I will give you a short 
lesson — very short indeed, as it consists of a 
simple monosyllable 1 — although it may be 
somewhat difficult for you to learn, and still 
more difficult to practise. The lesson is 
simply. NO. Learn to say no as early as possi- 
ble. In most cases of temptation an emphatic, 
hearty, unhesitating no, gains the victory. It 
is hesitating, stammering, faintly declining, 
wish i Kg to be excused, consenting with the eye 
while you deny with the tongue, that is the 
precise point of danger. A young man invites 
you to a drinking saloon, a billiard room, or 
into suspicious female society, and you beg to 
l>e excused — you have an engagement, or it is 
getting late in the evening ; the next thing is 
that you are seized by the collar in a half- 
pi ay ful manner, with a " Come along here," 
and on you go, like the ox to the slaughter. 
Were that solicitation met with a peremptory 
NO, and strengthened by the demand, " What 
do you mean, sir, by making such a proposition 
to ml"/ I thought you knew one better;" the 
power of the seducer would be neutralized in 
an instant, and you would be left with a pure 
conscience. The same individual would not 
be likelv to assail vou a<2:ain, and, should the 



YoLITlYE MANHOOD. 127 

enemy of your happiness find another agent 
to employ in his destructive schemes, you 
would find victory over him almost a matter 
of course. Prompt, decisive denial vanquishes 
the seducer, and strengthens your position. In 
nine cases out of ten, a prompt, emphatic, in- 
dignant NO, will foil the most wily tempter. 

When it is considered how feeble the tempta- 
tions to depart from duty now really are, and 
how much there is in the motives of religion 
and the common sentiments of mankind to 
render them still less potent, what a miserable 
apology for a man is he who sutlers himself to 
be turned from the way of duty and happiness 
by the considerations of a moment's gratifica- 
tion? All the riches, honours, and pleasures 
that earth can afford should be regarded as 
lighter than the dust of the balance when put 
into the scales with a good conscience and a 
hope of immortality. Especially would you 
degrade yourselves if, by a little ridicule, you 
should be made ashamed of virtue and befooled 
into recreancy by the meanest of all motives — 
a fear of being laughed at. 

I will now give you a few specimens of noble 
and unconquerable firmness in seasons of great 
trial, greater vastly than any which you are 
very likely to pass through. I shall take a 
few of these from the Bible. 



128 MANLY CHARACTER. 

What a noble example of constancy is that 
of Joseph, when tempted to illicit intercourse 
with his master's wife. " How," says he, "can 
I do this great wickedness, and sin against 
God?" You can imagine the strength of the 
temptation of a fascinating woman, and a wo- 
man of rank too, without proceeding so far as 
that the imagination shall weaken the force 
of the noble example. This great moral hero 
can but be admired even by the worst of 
men. 

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in the 
face of the " burning fiery furnace," when re- 
quired to worship the golden image, had the 
firmness to give to King Nebuchadnezzar this 
glorious answer : " If it be so, our God, whom 
we serve, is able to deliver us from the burn- 
ing fiery furnace; and he will deliver us out 
of thy hand, king. But if not, be it known 
unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy 
gods, nor worship the golden image which thou 
hast set up." Dan. iii, 17, 18. 

The prophet Daniel also refused to desist 
from prayer to his God, though it were at 
the hazard of being "cast into the den of 
lions." 

When Agabus predicted that Paul should 
be made a prisoner and bound at Jerusalem, 
and his sympathizing friends "besought him 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 129 

not to go up to Jerusalem," lie nobly an- 
swered : " What mean ye to weep, and to break 
my heart? for I am ready not to be bound 
only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name 
of the Lord Jesus." Acts xxi, 13. 

In all these instances conscience held the 
supremacy, and temptations which appealed 
to the strongest passions of the human heart, 
were manfully and promptly resisted. These 
examples possess a grandeur and sublimity 
worthy of the highest admiration. 

The Book of Martyrs furnishes a thousand 
instances illustrative of the principle upon 
which I am now insisting. The noble heroism 
of the Scotch Covenanters, and of "our Pilgrim 
fathers," is a sublime exhibition of firmness 
under great trials ; also the history of our 
revolutionary struggle is replete with in- 
stances of this principle. From each of these 
classes I might introduce particular cases of 
great interest, but the limits to which this 
lecture must be confined will only admit of a 
very few, and these I shall select from the 
last. 

A more striking instance of almost super- 
human firmness is not recorded in history than 
that of General Washington, at the deeply 
discouraging period of the revolutionary war. 

The campaign of 1776 had been most dis- 
9 



130 MANLY CHARACTER. 



astrous to the colonial cause, and the com- 
mander-in-chief had " retreated through the 
swamps and crossed the Delaware." Sparks, 
in his Life of Washington, says : " In the midst 
of these scenes of trial and discouragement, 
Washington stood firm. From his letters, 
written at this time on the western bank of 
the Delaware, it does not appear that he 
yielded for a moment to a sense of immediate 
danger, or to a doubt of ultimate success. On 
the contrary, they breathe the same deter- 
mined spirit, and arc marked by the same con- 
fidence, calmness, and forethought, which dis- 
tinguished them on all other occasions. When 
asked what he would do if Philadelphia should 
be taken, he is reported to have said, ' We 
will retreat beyond the Susquehanna Eiver, 
and thence, if necessary, to the Alleghany 
Moun tains.'" 

Who can think of the condition of the little 
shattered, half-starved, and ill-clad army — 
the poverty of the country and the strength 
of the foe — and then conceive of the strength 
of heart and will which would be necessary to 
form such a purpose, without the profoundest 
admiration ? " Retreat to the Alleghany 
Mountains," in the midst of winter, with such 
a feeble, suffering army ! What an iron nerve 
must be necessary to form and to execute such 






VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 131 

a purpose as that ! The purpose was deliber- 
ately formed, and, if need had required, would 
have been executed ; but, thanks to a wise and 
gracious Providence, the brave commander-in- 
chief was saved from the pain of carrying out 
that purpose. 

Still another instance which transpired 
within our own times we have in the case of 
the great Magyar chief and civilian, M. Louis 
Kossuth. When he was an exile in Turkey, and 
the government of the Sublime Porte, being 
strongly pressed by the Austrian and Eussian 
governments to give him up, resorted to the 
expedient of offering him protection upon the 
ground of his embracing Mohammedanism, 
the noble spirit of this wonderful man spurned 
the offer, choosing rather to die than to aban- 
don his faith. Said he : " My answer does not 
admit of hesitation. Between death and shame 
the choice can neither be dubious nor difficult. 
Governor of Hungary, and elected to the high 
place by the confidence of fifteen millions of 
my countrymen, I know well what I owe to my 
country even in exile. Even as a private in- 
dividual I have an honourable path to pursue. 
Though once the governor of a generous peo- 
ple, I leave no inheritance to my children. 
They shall at least bear an unsullied name. 
God's will be done. I am prepared to die." 



132 MANLY CHARACTER. 

These instances are designed to illustrate 
the real power and majesty of invincible firm- 
ness under circumstances of trial. The power 
of resistance is no less necessary to manliness 
of character, than the power of decisive action. 
Upon the oue depends our efficiency, and upon 
the other our stability. A changeable charac- 
ter cannot have the public confidence. Of 
Reuben, the patriarch Jacob said: " Unstable 
as water, thou slialt not excel." Deficiency 
in firmness is a defect of character which often 
excites pity, but never either respect or con- 
fidence. On the other hand, heroic firmness 
is universally admired. Shakspeare says : " A 
good leg will fail ; a straight back will stoop ; 
a black beard will turn white ; a curled pate 
will grow bald ; a fair face will wither ; a 
full eye will wax hollow ; but a good heart 
is the sun and moon — or, rather, the sun, and 
not the moon, for it shines bright, and never 
changes, but keeps his course truly." 

Another thing implied in the right con- 
dition of the will, is perseverance. 

Perseverance is nothing more nor less than 
protracted firmness and activity. It is the 
firmness which maintains itself under long 
delays and continued opposition. There are 
nerves which will endure a heavy shock with- 
out flinching, which cannot long preserve their 



V0L1T1VE MANHOOD. 133 

tension under a heavy pressure. They need 
more patience and hope. The power of en- 
durance is as really important to a manly 
character as decision and firmness, and re- 
quires greater strength of will. Many, under 
a temporary excitement, will brave dangers 
and resist temptations with astonishing cour- 
age and fortitude, who soon become weary, 
and flag. It is the continued, persevering effort 
which succeeds in the accomplishment of 
great designs : — perseverance in the midst of 
disheartening discouragements — perseverance 
against dangers — and perseverance under long 
delays. The strength of a man's character 
is brought out when he is obliged to wait long 
for success — when the means and the desired 
end are widely separated, or when the process 
is long, and involved in doubt; and when 
great labour, long continued, is the only con- 
dition of success. Almost any one can stem 
a current for a short period ; but to row up 
the whole length of a long and rapid river, 
would be quite another matter. 

A singular instance of determined perse- 
verance is given by John Foster, as follows : — 

" You may recollect the mention in one of 
our conversations, of a young man who wasted 
in two or three years a large patrimony, in 
profligate revels with a number of worthless 






134 MANLY CHARACTER. 

associates calling themselves his friends, till 
his last means were exhausted, when they of 
course treated him with neglect or contempt. 
Reduced to absolute want, he one day went 
out of the house with an intention to put an 
end to his life ; but wandering awhile almost 
unconsciously, he came to the brow of an emi- 
nence which overlooked what were lately his 
estates. Here he sat down and remained fixed 
in thought a number of hours, at the end of 
which he sprang from the ground with a 
vehement exulting emotion. He had formed 
his resolution, which was that all these estates 
should be his again ; lie had formed his plan 
too, which he instantly began to execute. He 
walked hastily forward, determined to seize 
the very first opportunity, of however humble 
a kind, to gain any money, though it were 
ever so despicable a trifle, and resolved abso- 
lutely not to spend, if he could help it, a 
farthing of whatever he might obtain. The 
first thing that drew his attention was a heap 
of coals shot out of carts on the pavement 
before a house. He offered himself to shovel 
or wheel them into the place where they were 
to be laid, and was employed. He received 
a few pence for the labour ; and then, in pur- 
suance of the saving part of his plan, requested 
some small gratuity of meat and drink, which 



VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 135 

griven him. He then looked out for the 
next thing that might chance to offer ; and 
went, with indefatigable industry, through a 
succession of servile employment's, in different 
places, of longer and shorter duration, still 
scrupulously avoiding, as far as possihle, the 
expense of a penny. He promptly seized every 
opportunity which could advance his design, 
without regarding the meanness of occupation 
or appearance. By this method he had gained, 
after a considerable time, money enough to 
purchase, in order to sell again, a few cattle, 
of which he had taken pains to understand 
the value. He speedily but cautiously turned 
his first gains into second advantages ; re- 
tained without a single deviation his extreme 
parsimony ; and thus advanced by degrees 
into larger transactions and incipient wealth. 
I did not hear, or have forgotten the continued 
course of his life : but the final result was, 
that he more than recovered his lost posses- 
sions, and died an inveterate miser, worth 
£60,000. I have always recollected this as 
a signal instance, though in an unfortunate 
and ignoble direction, of decisive character, 
and of the extraordinary effect which, accord- 
ing to general laws, belongs to the strongest 
form of such a character." 

An eminent instance of perseverance we 



136 MANLY CHARACTER. 

have in John Wesley, whose long life, which 
reached the period of eighty-four years, was 
filled, up to the very last hour, with efforts to 
do good. He preached daily, wrote at inter- 
vals, and rode upon horseback. With all his 
other duties, he wrote so many hooks, that if 
they were piled up before you, some, possibly, 
might think it quite impracticable to read 
them all through in one short lifetime. 

Adam Clarke was engaged thirty years in 
writing and publishing his extensive Com- 
mentary on the Bible, and at the same time 
performed an incredible amount of ministerial 
and literary labour. Who of you would be 
willing to pledge your word to read his great 
work through in five years? 

Noah Webster was engaged on bis great 
Dictionary for nearly forty years, without much 
intermission. To think of working among 
the dry roots of a multitude of tongues for 
so many years, with the one object in view, 
of making a dictionary ! What immense 
tenacity must there be in such a mind ! What 
power of endurance ! Such a mind is fastened 
to its object, as Prometheus was chained to 
the rock. 

These qualities of a strong will — the power 
of manly volition and manly endurance — 
must be cultivated until they ripen into habit. 



VOLFTIVE MANHOOD. 137 

The condition of the will, which I have de- 
scribed, is not to be acquired at once ; it will 
require time and a repetition of efforts, through 
a long series, to give that unyielding strength 
to the voluntary action of the mind which I have 
described. Hence the efforts must be begun 
early, and continued without intermission. 
The child that can lift six pounds, continues 
to increase the weight, and to accumulate 
strength, until he can lift six hundred. 

A weak will should be strengthened by ex- 
ercise ; a wayward will must be corrected by 
reason and conscience — so that, while it oper- 
ates with decision and force, it may always 
move in the right direction. 

There is a vast difference between the traits 
of character above described, and a blind ob- 
stinacy. A decided, firm, and adhesive char- 
acter, is regarded with universal respect, while 
an obstinate blockhead is universally con- 
temned. The difference between the two, is, 
that the one acts from an intelligent view of 
duty, while the other is influenced by preju- 
dice or interest. One is always open to con- 
viction, and willing and ready to change, 
when he is convinced that he is wrong ; while 
the other is not susceptible of either conviction 
or conversion, but " is wiser in his own eyes 
than seven men that can render a reason." 



138 MANLY CHARACTER. 

It requires no little strength of character 
to acknowledge a wrong, and to forsake it. 
The obstinate man thinks it would be de- 
grading for him to change his course, and so 
perseveres, often against his own convictions ; 
while the man of true decision and firmness, 
dares to correct himself when he finds he is 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 139 



VI -SOCIAL MANHOOD. 

" BE COURTEOUS." — I PET. HI, 8. 

We are all constituted by our Creator mem- 
bers of society, and consequently cannot act 
solely with reference to ourselves. As mem- 
bers of society, our conduct has a bearing upon 
others, and the conduct of others affects us. 
Like a wheel in a watch, which, while it turns 
upon its own axis, influences the movement 
of other wheels, with which it is nearly or re- 
motely connected, and in its turn is influenced 
by them ; so action and reaction constitute a 
law which necessarily governs society. Hence 
the formation of our social character is a 
matter of the highest importance, and is made 
exceedingly prominent in the teachings of the 
Scriptures. 

True it is that the moral phases of social 
character are more especially noticed and regu- 
lated than those which are merely civil; but 
still these are not wholly neglected. The 
word (pihocpQoiv, rendered " courteous," literally 
signifies friendly-minded, and is descriptive 
of a state of mind which will show itself in 
civil and social intercourse. The term gentle- 
man, may be interpreted a man of gentle man- 



140 MANLY CHARACTER. 

ners — one who, in all the intercourse of life, 
exhibits " urbanity of manners or disposition, 
affability, mildness, freedom from roughness, 
or rudeness, coarseness, grossness, or vul- 
garity." The basis of such a character must 
be constituted of benevolence, humility, and 
meekness. In this connexion we use these 
terms for social virtues, and not Christian 
graces merely. 

" Politeness, in the common intercourse of 
the world, is a subsidium to what Christian 
love is in the better system of religion and 
virtue. The former may be defined, a con- 
stant attention to oblige, to do or say nothing 
which may give pain or offence : and Christian 
love is a continual endeavour to please, in 
order to promote our neighbour's best welfare. 
While, therefore, my young friends, you act 
upon the amiable principles of Christian truth, 
let that love especially, which is the most re- 
fined politeness, be the principal regulator of 
your behaviour in conversation. Study always 
to please, in order to improve and do good. 
Good sense and humour, and good breeding, 
unite in nearly the same dictate : and if they 
carry out the motive, so far as it is carried 
by Christianity, rejoice that you have the 
happy, the plain direction of a precept to form 
your behaviour, which is no less infallibly 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. Ul 

productive of your own internal peace and 
felicity, than it is certain to recommend you 
to the approbation and good esteem of others." 
— Br. Dodd's Discourses to Young Men. 

Courteousness, as a social quality, was not 
thought to be a matter beneath the notice of 
the inspired writers. It is recorded, to the 
praise of Julius, the Eoman centurion, that he 
" courteously entreated Paul, and gave him 
liberty to go unto his friends to refresh him- 
self." Acts xxvii, 3. And of Publius it is said, 
that he " received us, and lodged us courte- 
ously." Acts xxviii, 7. Courteousness, in these 
instances, was a mere heathen virtue, and yet 
is made a matter of honourable mention by 
the sacred historian. 

The precise idea to which I shall call your 
special attention, young gentlemen, in this 
lecture, is good manners, — manners and habits, 
in your intercourse with society, which will 
give to your name an influence and attractions 
that will render your intercourse with so- 
ciety both agreeable and useful. To furnish 
you some aid in the accomplishment of this 
object, I will point out several things which 
may be deemed indispensable. 

1. Special attention must be paid to your 
general bearing. 

You must unite dignity with gentleness. 






142 MANLY CHARACTER. 

What is here intended is not a pompous man- 
ner, such as would be likely to arise from a 
mind inflated with false notions of personal 
superiority, but a sense of your own worth, 
tempered by a conviction of your weaknesses 
and defects. When you find yourselves in- 
clined to put on airs, and to play the lord 
upon a small scale, just think of the incom- 
pleteness of your accomplishments, and how 
your conduct would be regarded by the search- 
ing eye of the well-bred gentleman. 

Lord Chesterfield, in his letters to his son, 
makes the following very sensible observations 
upon the point now in hand : — " There is a 
certain dignity of manners absolutely neces- 
sary to make even the most valuable character 
cither respected or respectable. Horseplay, 
romping, frequent and loud fits of laughter, 
jokes, waggery, and indiscriminate familiar- 
ity, will sink both merit and knowledge into 
a degree of contempt. They compose, at most, 
a merry fellow, and a merry fellow was never 
yet a respectable man. Indiscriminate famil- 
iarity either offends your superiors, or else 
dubs you their dependant, and led-captain. 
It gives your inferiors just, but troublesome 
claims of equality. A joker is near akin to a 
buffoon, and neither of them is the least re- 
lated to wit. Whoever is admitted or sought 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 143 

for in company upon any other account than 
that of his merit and manners, is never re- 
spected there, but only made use of. Who- 
ever is led, as it is called, in company for the 
sake of any one thing singly is singly that 
thing, and will never be considered in any 
other light, consequently never respected, let 
his merits be what they will." 

Let your self-respect be tempered by respect 
for others. A want of respect for the feelings 
and opinions of other men is evidence of a 
shallow intellect, as well as a defective educa- 
tion. He who would be respected must re- 
spect others, and he who would not be respected 
cannot respect himself. Suitable respect for 
others will effectually prevent our respect for 
ourselves from degenerating into pride and 
" vain glory " — a condition of mind which 
might be expected in a fallen spirit, but is 
utterly absurd in a fallen, fallible man. 

" The dignity of manners which I commend 
so much to you is not only as different from 
pride as true courage is from blustering, or 
true wit from joking, but is absolutely incon- 
sistent with it; for nothing vilifies and de- 
grades more than pride. The pretensions of 
the proud man are oftener treated with scorn 
and contempt than with indignation — as we 
offer ridiculouslv too little to a tradesman who 



144 MANLY CHARACTER. 






asks ridiculously too much for his goods ; but 
we do not haggle with one who only asks a 
just and reasonable price." — Chesterfield. 

Be reserved and yet familiar. There is a 
happy mean between austerity of manners 
and that familiarity which breeds contempt. 
There is something exceedingly attractive in 
the character of a universal sympathizer — a 
friend of everybody — a man who is always 
approachable, always upon a level with the 
mass of minds around him, provided his sym- 
pathies with the masses and his condescension 
to their tastes and wishes do not flow on in so 
overwhelming a current as to carry away all 
the barriers settled by a high regard to social 
and moral order. Being so completely fused 
with the mass as to lose your own individual- 
ity would neutralize your influence and annihi- 
late your name. Such a familiarity with the 
world as reserves no secrets — such an identity 
of interest as retains no capital of one's own — 
such communicativeness as imparts everything 
and keeps nothing — so opening our secret 
chamber to the public gaze that thieves and 
robbers may easily learn every avenue of ap- 
proach, would be self-destruction, without pub- 
lic benefit. There are things to be kept within 
our own breasts, and things to be published 
abroad; there are times to speak, and times to 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 14S 

be silent. Happy is he who has the penetra- 
tion to discern the medium between undue 
familiarity with the world and a spirit of 
asceticism which would cast it entirely away 
from all his sympathies. 

Be accommodating', without subserviency. 
Give others their own way in all matters of 
indifference, but never yield a principle be- 
cause it may be asked or demanded by the 
multitude. You must not contend about 
trifles — you must not be querulous or disputa- 
tious ; but when a question of right, or even of 
taste, is raised, and you have settled and well- 
considered opinions of your own, take your 
ground, but always with a readiness to yield 
to conviction, which is perfectly apparent in 
your language and spirit. Never give up a 
point of importance, either of morals or man- 
ners, merely to conciliate others. Frankness 
and firmness, mingled with kindness, will do 
more towards securing the good opinion of 
mankind than a crouching submission to what 
is evidently wrong, merely because it is popu- 
lar. He who seeks popularity at the expense 
of principle, grasps at the shadow and loses the 
substance. 

" Abject flattery and indiscriminate assenta- 
tion degrade as much as indiscriminate con- 
tradiction and noisy debate disgust. But a 



146 MANLY CHARACTER. 

modest assertion of our own opinion, and a 
complacent acquiescence in other people's, pre- 
serve dignity. ' ' — Chesterfield. 

Stand at an equal distance from the man- 
ners of a fop and those of a clown. The polish 
of a true gentleman is not the prettiness and 
tinsel of the mere man of fashion, nor is the 
artlessness and simplicity of a well-hred man 
the vulgarity and coarseness of the street 
loafer. Avoid both of these extremes, as being 
utterly incompatible with that manliness of 
bearing and behaviour in society which consti- 
tute essential elements of that ripeness and 
perfection of your manhood, which should ever 
be your aim, and which are essential to influ- 
ence and success in the world. 

" Vulgar, low expressions, awkward motions 
and address vilify, as they imply either a very 
low turn of mind or low education and low 
company. Frivolous curiosity about trifles, 
and a laborious attention to little objects, 
which neither require nor deserve a moment's 
thought, lower a man ; who from thence is 
thought — and not unjustly — incapable of 
greater matters. Cardinal de Eentz very 
sagely marked out Cardinal Chigi for a little 
mind from the moment that he told him he 
had written three years with the same pen, and 
that it was an excellent good one still. 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 147 

" A certain degree of seriousness in looks 
and motions gives dignity, without excluding 
wit and decent cheerfulness, which are always 
serious themselves. A constant smirk upon 
the face and a whiffling activity of the body 
are strong indications of futility. Whoever is 
in a hurry shows that the thing he is about is 
too big for him. Haste and hurry are two 
different things." — Chesterfield. 

The distinction intended by his lordship 
may seem obscure or doubtful. Perhaps haste 
implies mere celerity of movement, while hurry 
implies a forced movement. A man in haste 
drives his business, but he who is in a hurry 
is driven by his business. 

I would finally say in general — study to 
make all the persons with whom you have any 
intercourse, of whatever condition in life, per- 
fectly at ease in your presence. Let none feel 
that you pride yourself upon your superior en- 
dowments, education, or wealth. Let the 
simplest and poorest feel that they meet you 
as a brother — that your sympathies are with 
them just so far as they exhibit the proof of 
honesty of heart and elevation of sentiment. 
" Be gentle towards all men." In so doing 
you will have your reward in the respect you 
will inspire and the evidence you will gain 
that you have been the means of extending 






148 MANLY CHARACTER. 



the sphere of human happiness and exciting 
noble aspirations in bosoms which otherwise 
would have been left entirely under the con- 
trol of grovelling' appetites, and would have 
been utterly crushed by meanness of spirit and 
utter self-despair. 

2. Let your manners be strictly chaste — 
entirely free from everything which would 
impart a taint to others, or lessen you in the 
estimation of the purest and most elevated 
characters. 

Avoid all obscene, gross, or low conversa- 
tion. Even among yourselves study to be per- 
fectly chaste in your language, and make no 
allusions which would have a tendency to cor- 
rupt or debase the imagination. It is a most 
fatal mistake for young men to suppose that 
when they are away from society they may 
harmlessly indulge in lewd or vulgar conver- 
sation. Such discourse invariably leaves be- 
ll in d it a taint which it will be found difficult 
to efface, and impossible to conceal. The ideas 
which it excites linger in the memory, and 
haunt the imagination, like ghosts of dark- 
ness, until their impression is indelibly fixed 
upon the soul. 

The minds of young men, frequently sub- 
jected to contact with such mischievous causes, 
are likely to become corrupted, and as the 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 149 

leading tendency of the mind is, such will be 
the manners. From slight deviations from 
strict purity of conversation, he who is taken 
in this snare will proceed to those which are 
more glaring, until finally he casts otF all 
semblance of decent propriety in his conversa- 
tion, and becomes a loathsome and disgusting 
specimen of a man void of shame. 

So dangerous is the touch of this fruitful 
source of mischief to young men — unchaste 
conversation — that you should consider it a 
sufficient reason for cutting the acquaintance 
of any young man who ventures upon impure 
allusions in your presence. " Evil communi- 
cations corrupt good manners." What a truth 
is this ! How many young men, who have 
been carefully trained in childhood, by listen- 
ing to the ribaldry of practised debauchees 
have been utterly ruined. 

I am here urging the importance of a chaste 
conversation upon my young friends, and you 
may not at first see why I seem to digress into 
an admonition upon the subject of bad com- 
pany. The perfect propriety of this will be 
seen in a moment, by reflecting upon the fact 
that it will be next to impossible for any young 
man to preserve purity of conversation and be 
in constant contact with the filth and mire of 
lascivious discourse. The example is fear- 



150 MANLY CHARACTER. 

fully contagious, and to be shunned as the 
gates of hell. 

" As waters, however pure when they issue 
from the spring, take the colour of the soil 
through which they flow — as animals trans- 
ported from one region to another lose some- 
thing of their former habits, and degenerate 
little by little — so character assimilates to 
that which surrounds it. You may be forced 
to have bad connexions — bad acquaintance — 
for perhaps you cannot avoid them — but you 
need not, and for your soul's sake, and the sake 
of everything dear to you, do not have bad 
companions. Men that scoff at religion — ridi- 
cule the godly — that make light of sin and 
laugh at conscience — that are lewd in their 
actions or obscene in their conversation — that 
are Sabbath-breakers, and lovers of pleasure 
more than lovers of God — that are extrava- 
gant in their habits and loose in their moral 
principles — these are the fools of whom Solo- 
mon speaks, that will bring their own destruc- 
tion upon you if you do not avoid them." — 
James. 

3. Study to observe an appropriate bearing 
towards ladies, and let your manners in their 
presence be every way becoming. 

If I were to lay down a rule which would 
be applicable in this case, and which would 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 151 

secure the end I have in view — the regulation 
of your manners in female society — I would 
say : first form a right estimate of the female 
character, and then let all your conduct in re- 
lation to the sex be governed by that estimate. 
He who has a proper view of the delicacy, the 
elevation, and the sacredness of the female 
character, will usually need little else to guide 
him in particular cases as to his manners in 
female society. Appropriate manners will 
follow right views of the character and posi- 
tion of those with whom we associate and 
whose tastes and interests are affected. 

" Civility is particularly due to all women ; 
and remember, that no provocation whatever 
can justify any man in not being civil to every 
woman ; and the greatest man in England 
would justly be reckoned a brute if he were 
not civil to the meanest woman. It is due to 
their sex, and it is the only protection they 
have against the superior strength of ours. 
Observe the French people, and mind how 
easily and naturally civil their address, and 
how agreeably they insinuate little civilities 
in their conversation. They think it so essen- 
tial that they call an honest man and a civil 
man by the same name of honnete Jiomme; and 
the Eomans called (jivility humanitas, as think- 
ing it inseparable from humanity. As nobody 



152 MAXLY CHARACTER. 

can instruct you in good-breeding better than 
your mamma, be sure you mind all she says 
to you about that subject, and depend upon it 
that your reputation and success in the world 
will, in a great measure, depend upon the de- 
gree of good-breeding you are master of. You 
cannot begin too early to take that turn in 
order to make it natural and habitual to you, 
which it is to very few Englishmen, who, neg- 
lecting it while they are young, find out too 
late, when they are old, how necessary it is, 
and then cannot get it right. There is hardly 
a French cook that is not better bred than 
most Englishmen of quality, and that cannot 
present himself with more ease and a better 
address in any mixed company." — Chester- 
field. 

To the attainment of the right estimate of 
female character, its diligent study, and an 
acquaintance with the best specimens, will be 
found necessary. Happy is that young man 
who has daily before him the brightest ex- 
amples of female grace and loveliness, in a 
mother and a sister. Their spirit and man- 
ners, constituting the very image of female 
excellence, will impress themselves upon his 
very nature. They will form a conception of 
the ideal of female sanctity, which will oblige 
him to pay homage to its sovereignty. Would 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 153 

that all mothers and sisters knew the import- 
ance of their position — the part they are con- 
stantly acting in forming the character of 
sons and brothers. 

Again : never presume that a lady is so 
■wanting in common sense, taste, or refine- 
ment, as not to be able to appreciate sensible 
and enlightened conversation. The idea that 
ladies are better pleased with soft nonsense 
than with the good, the true, and the useful, 
will be almost certain to lead you to a course 
which will degrade you in their estimation. 
A young lady once asked her father why it 
was that gentlemen never talked anything 
but nonsense to her. The father's reply was : 
" This is no very great compliment to your 
good sense and taste, my dear ;" adding : 
" When the gentlemen talk nonsense to you, 
you should talk sensibly to them. Perhaps 
this would change the character of their dis- 
course." The girl replied, not without rea- 
son : " It is not a lady's place to lead conver- 
sation, or give it character, in the presence 
of gentlemen." This, it is probable, is one 
instance among a multitude, in which a 
young lady tried to play her own part when 
gentlemen entered into idle, foolish chat, 
although her better feelings revolted from 
it, and it tended to degrade them in her 



154 MANLY CHARACTER. 

estimation. A young man of beautiful man- 
ners and an empty head, is soon rightly esti- 
mated by his female friends ; and he may 
be most wofully deceived in the opinion that 
his genteel dress, his graceful bows, his fasci- 
nating smiles, and his oily sentences, in the 
estimation of ladies, make ample amends for 
the want of good sound sense and a fund of 
useful information. 

A final remark, most important of all, is, 
that your female associates should be strictly 
select. They should be, like Caesar's wife, 
" not only pure, but above suspicion." Care- 
lessness in selecting your female company 
will be the grossest injustice to yourselves, 
for it will probably be the means of your 
" dying as the fool dieth." Indeed, it would 
seem to indicate that you have already doom- 
ed yourself to perdition. 

4. Attend to your manners at home, in the 
family circle. 

Bad habits formed in the domestic circle 
seldom leave a man in after years, and give 
a cast to his manners in society. Hence, that 
young man, who would appear to advantage 
in public, must cultivate good manners under 
the paternal roof. Not that you should 
screw yourself up to all the precision and 
formality which would be requisite in public 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 155 

circles. At homo, you have a right to a cer- 
tain amount of freedom from restraint, which 
would be suitable nowhere else. Still here, 
as well as elsewhere, it should be your aim to 
make all around you happy. Here gross, 
vulgar, or unkind conduct is indeed peculiarly 
out of place. 

You ought certainly to wish to appear to 
advantage before your best friends. It is 
natural that you should desire to be both 
loved and respected by your father, mother, 
brothers, and sisters ; but how are you to se- 
cure this end if it be not by a style of man- 
ners, and a bearing, which will command 
their affections and their respect? For a 
young man to play the agreeable abroad, 
and be a demon of discord at home, is mon- 
strous. The thing will not succeed with the 
public. The viciousness and vulgarity of 
mind which make a young man an uncom- 
fortable inmate of the paternal mansion, can- 
not long be concealed from the public eye. 
They will now and then show themselves, like 
the claws and fiery eyes of the wolf in the 
sheep-skin, and will finally become matters 
of public notoriety, not only making you a 
terror to the private family circle, but to be 
regarded as a pest everywhere. 

"On the contrary, what inexpressible de- 



156 MANLY CHARACTER. 

light, when brothers and sisters of one family 
live together in all the harmony of friend- 
ship and good esteem, mutually delighted 
and charmed with each other's presence and 
society ! Peace dwells in their bosom, and 
transport beats at their heart. They know 
how to obviate each other's troubles and diffi- 
culties ; they know how to impart and double 
each other's felicity and pleasure. And if, 
perchance, their aged parents live, who have 
formed them thus to love, whose early care 
provided for them this high feast of most 
delicate sensations, what increasing raptures 
do they feel, from blessing those parents with 
this fruit of their care ! O ye happy parents, 
if I could envy any beings upon earth, it 
were you who see your youth renewed in 
good and worthy children nourishing around 
you ; who see those children amply crowning 
your days and nights of past solicitude, not 
only with the most reverential respect to 
yourselves, but with what you wish still 
more, if possible, — with the firmest and most 
respectful love to each other ! who see those 
children, with all the kindness of that love 
you sought to inspire, like olive branches 
verdant around you ; blessed in you, blessed 
in each other, blessed in themselves ; the pro- 
vidence of God smiling upon them ; success 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 157 

and honour attending their steps. Happy 
parents ! yours is a chosen lot. Happy pa- 
rents ! who from the moment they become 
such, exert their utmost efforts to attain that 
lot, and to strengthen, by the bonds of religion 
and instruction, what nature so kindly im- 
plants, and will aid so much in the rearing." 
— Br. Dodd's Discourses to Young Men. 

5. Pay special respect to age, and superior 
wisdom and experience. 

Nothing is a more palpable blemish in the 
character of a young man than a want of 
reverence for his seniors, especially his pa- 
rents. It not only exhibits a great want of 
that modesty which is the brightest ornament 
to the character of the young, but is a certain 
indication of a want of good sense. It always 
implies a defect in early training, or the inter- 
position of some malign influence which has 
perverted the judgment and heart. 

In general, that impertinence and impu- 
dence, in a young man, which tramples upon 
age and experience, is a severe reflection upon 
his parents. It indicates but too plainly, that 
age, at home, has not been clothed with dig- 
nity, and, consequently, has not made itself 
respected. It shows that in his heart, as in a 
neglected garden, the weeds of self-import- 
ance and self-will have been permitted to 



158 MANLY CHARACTER. 

acquire a rank growth, while the good and 
lovely plants of humility and modesty have 
been neglected. Such neglect always recoils 
most fearfully upon parents ; and although it 
is wicked in their offspring thus to visit their 
sins upon them, as a retribution of Provi- 
dence it is just and right, and ought to be 
borne with patience. " The rod and reproof 
give wisdom ; but a child left to himself 
bringeth his mother to shame. " 

As to the parents who gave you birth : 
" Let their commands ever be sacred in your 
ears, and implicitly obeyed, where they do not 
contradict the commands of God ; pretend not 
to be wiser than they, who have had so much 
more experience than yourselves ; and despise 
them not, if haply you should be so blessed as 
to have gained a degree of knowledge or for- 
tune superior to them. Let your carriage 
towards them be always respectful, reverent, 
and submissive ; let your words be always 
affectionate and humble, and especially be- 
ware of pert and ill-seeming replies — of angry, 
discontented, and peevish looks. Never imag- 
ine, if they thwart your wills, or oppose your 
inclinations, that this ariseth from anything 
but love to you : solicitous as they have ever 
been for your welfare, always consider the 
same tender solicitude as exerting itself, even 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 159 

in cases most opposite to your desires ; and 
let the remembrance of what they have done 
and s uttered for you, ever preserve you from 
acts of disobedience, and from paining those 
good hearts, which have already felt so much 
for you, their children." — Dr. DodcVs Dis- 
courses to Young Men. 

Those advanced in years may often fail to 
keep pace with the progress of things, and 
may entertain many antiquated notions, and 
yet they may have experience which is more 
valuable, in the every-day business of life, 
than an indefinite number of novelties, which 
are dignified with the name of improvements. 
Wisdom is not always with gray hairs ; but 
there is more of it concentrated there than 
anywhere else. This is universally conceded ; 
and, of course,' it ought to be conceded that 
age is not to be treated as a sure indication 
of mental decline, and a proper object of de- 
rision and merriment. The lad who can 
speak of his father as " the old man," and 
his mother as " the old woman," deserves to 
be despised. Such phrases as the following 
are not uncommon, but are generally most 
unseemly, in the mouth of a beardless boy : 
"He is a man of another age; he is behind 
the times ; he belongs to the old school ; 
lie has not kept pace with the progress of 



160 MANLY CHARACTER. 

the age ; while he has been sleeping, the 
world has been going on." In the estima- 
tion of headlong inexperience, either of 
these phrases is quite enough to neutralize 
the sagest wisdom or the gravest lessons of 
experience. Age may not run so rapidly as 
youth, but it will run more surely towards 
the mark. 

In concluding this lecture, permit me to 
urge the importance of the subject of it upon 
my young friends. Much — almost every- 
thing — depends upon manner. How often is 
a fine performance wholly spoiled by an unfor- 
tunate manner ! A young gentleman may 
be well disposed, and highly estimated, and 
yet his society regarded as a nuisance, in con- 
sequence of something offensive in his man- 
ners. He may not be able to see why it is 
that he is treated with coolness, while others, 
greatly his inferiors in point of intelligence, 
are the idols of every circle. The whole is 
resolved into the mere question of manners. 

The range we have taken in this lecture 
gives to the subject of manners a kind of 
moral force which some might hastily sup- 
pose does not attach to it. It is here, as 1 
hope all will concede, properly invested with 
an importance, and made to possess an in- 
trinsic worth which claims the respect and 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 161 

attention of all young- men who would meet 
their responsibilities to God and the world. 

If we would make our impression upon so- 
ciety, and leave our mark behind us, we must 
carry the feelings of the community with 
which we are immediately connected. Mere 
light does little ; logic seldom converts : it is 
an impression upon the lieart that does the 
work. What is it that takes the citadel of 
the heart ? 

" Intrinsic merit alone will not do ; it will 
gain you the general esteem of all, but not 
the particular affection, that is, the heart, of 
any. To engage the affection of any par- 
ticular person, you must, over and above your 
general merit, have some particular merit to 
that person — by services done, or offered ; by 
expression of regard and esteem ; by com- 
plaisance, attention, &c., for him ; and the 
graceful manner of doing all these things 
opens the way to the heart, and facilitates, 
or rather insures, their effects. From your 
own observation, reflect what a disagreeable 
impression an awkward address, a slovenly 
figure, an ungraceful manner of speaking — 
whether stuttering, muttering, monotony, or 
drawling — an inattentive behaviour, &c, 
make upon you, at first sight, in a stranger, 
and how they prejudice you against him, 



162 MANLY CHARACTER. 

though, for aught you know, he may have 
great intrinsic sense and merit. And reflect, 
on the other hand, how much the opposites of 
all these things prepossess you, at first sight, 
in favour of those who enjoy them. You wish 
to find all good qualities in them, and are in 
some degree disappointed if you do not. A 
thousand little things, not separately to he 
defined, conspire to form these graces, this je 
ne sais quoi, that always please. Ohserve 
carefully, then, what pleases or displeases 
you in others, and be persuaded that, in 
general, the same things will please or dis- 
please them in you." — Chesterfield. 

We may convince some of truths, and of the 
propriety of a certain course of life ; but we 
must move their feelings before we shall gain 
their acquiescence in the truths we teach, or 
spring their powers into action in the direc- 
tion of the duties we enforce. So, if we would 
exert a wide influence over society, we must 
take hold of the heart of society — we must 
meet the tastes of society. In other words, 
we must study the art of pleasing — of making 
ourselves agreeable. Our mien must be 
becoming — our social character must be con- 
formed to the best models. 

" Manners, though the last, and it may be 
the least, ingredient of real merit, are, how- 



SOCIAL MANHOOD. 103 

ever, very far from being useless in its com- 
position ; they adorn, and give an additional 
force and lustre to both virtue and knowl- 
edge. They prepare and smooth the way 
for the progress of both ; and are, I fear, 
with the bulk of mankind, more engaging 
than either. Remember, then, the infinite 
advantage of manners ; cultivate and improve 
your own to the utmost ; good sense will sug- 
gest the great rules to you, good company 
will do the rest." — CJiesterfield. 

The importance of keeping good company, 
with reference to its influence upon your man- 
ners, can scarcely be over-estimated. We 
are creatures of imitation, and are especially 
liable to imitate a vicious manner. Ere we 
are aware, it fastens itself upon us, and we 
find ourselves — or, rather, others find us — 
imitating the mannerisms of some favourite 
companion or friend. As we are forming our 
manners, we need the perfect ideal in our 
minds, and quite essential to this is the per- 
fect model before us of what we would aspire 
to become. 



164 MANLY CHARACTER. 



VII -CIVIL MAXHOOD. 

"AND THE CHIEF CAPTAIN ANSWERED, WITH A GREAT SUM 
OBTAINED I THIS FREEDOM. AND PAUL SAID, BUT I WAS FREE- 
BORN." — ACTS XXII, 28. 

" A CITIZEN OF NO MEAN CITY." — ACTS XXI, 39. 

The present lecture will be devoted to the 
consideration of the rights and privileges, 
duties and responsibilities, of citizens. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that these 
are themes which it becomes young men to 
study and understand. About to enter upon 
the relation of citizens, and to be invested 
with all the rights and privileges of freemen, 
an early adjustment to that condition is urged 
by every motive of duty and interest. 

In despotic governments, where every man 
is expected to be a soldier, a military educa- 
tion is all that is deemed requisite for a 
young man. In free representative govern- 
ments, peace is the natural condition of pros- 
perity, and the civil relations are matters of 
the highest practical importance. The candi- 
date for citizenship should form an adequate 
acquaintance with the subject of political 
economy, that he may have some tolerable 
idea of what is about to be required of him, 
and that he may meet the reasonable de- 
mands and expectations of society. 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 165 

In endeavouring to render you some as- 
sistance in the pursuit of this object, I shall 
first inquire into the rights and privileges of a 
citizen. 

Every citizen is entitled to the protection 
of the government. According to the Decla- 
ration of American Independence, " every 
man is born with certain inalienable rights, 
such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- 
ness." These rights must not only be re- 
spected by government, but be protected by 
it, and at its own cost. The person of every 
citizen should be regarded as sacred, and, 
consequently, should be protected from all 
personal violence. The property of the citizen 
is also under the protection of the govern- 
ment ; hence the punishment of theft, rob- 
bery, and all species of fraud. The character 
or reputation of the citizen is also, by civil 
government, acknowledged as a personal 
right, to be covered by its shield. The 
general rule is, that every citizen has a right 
to claim protection in the pursuit of a lawful 
calling, and has a right to the avails of his 
labour. Those, however, who claim the pro- 
tection of law in pursuits which are injurious 
to society, demand too much ; for a business 
is only lawful when it does not infringe upon 
social rights. 



166 MANLY CHARACTER. 

It would be absurd for government to pro- 
tect a business which wages war upon the 
happiness and the very existence of society. 
Government is appointed for the conservation 
of society, and, in the nature of the case, is 
bound to suppress all individual enterprises 
which militate against its best interests. The 
rights of society are made up of the social 
rights of the individuals of whom it is com- 
posed, and when any of those rights is in- 
vaded, society is injured. If one man's 
rights may be taken from him, so may be 
those of another, until the rights of the 
whole community are destroyed. Hence 
society generally is injured by the infraction 
of the rights of any one individual of its 
members, and each individual sustains an 
injury when any other individual is injured. 
Such is the result of the social state — such 
the identity of the social interests of all the 
members of the body politic. 

The necessary consequence flowing from 
these positions is, that when government 
licenses a business which is injurious to the 
moral character or the temporal prosperity 
of any portion of the community, it perverts 
its proper functions. What right can a man 
have to manufacture and sell an article 
which is only injurious to the buyer, and 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 167 

which, in all ordinary cases, unfits him for 
the duties and responsibilities of a citizen? 
What right can the government have to 
license such a business ? What reason can 
be 'given why it should not be suppressed, 
under severe penalties ? Has not every good 
citizen a claim upon the government for pro- 
tection against the evils of every business of 
this class ? So I certainly believe ; and I 
have never yet heard a reason offered against 
this view, of which a sensible man ought not 
to be ashamed. Why men should be allowed 
to make themselves rich at the expense of 
the unwary, the weak, and the defenceless, 
no good reason can be given. Why a busi- 
ness should be tolerated that taxes me, by 
creating pauperism and crime, no one can 
tell. Why the morals — and, consequently, 
the happiness, respectability, and usefulness 
— of my children should be exposed, I might 
safely challenge any one to show. To apply 
the principles of social rights, for which I 
contend, to particular cases, I would have 
grog-shops, gambling-houses, houses of ill- 
fame, and every place of demoralizing amuse- 
ment, suppressed by law. 

The point to which I have arrived naturally 
suggests the particular lesson which I wish to 
inculcate upon your minds, and which I hope 



168 MANLY CHARACTER. 

may be well considered. In selecting a course 
of life, you have more than one thing to 
look at. The mere pecuniary advantages of 
the business which you select as a means of 
livelihood, is not everything, nor the principal 
thing, to be considered. You are to inquire 
whether it is a useful and an honourable, as 
well as a profitable, employment. As you 
have no right to make war upon society for 
your own benefit, you cannot justly engage 
in a business without taking into considera- 
tion the influence it will exert upon the 
moral character, the social condition, the 
domestic comfort, the wealth, and the happi- 
ness of the community of which you constitute 
a member. Permit me then to hope, young 
gentlemen, that none of you are candidates 
fur a position in connexion with any of those 
schools of vice — manufactories of pauperism 
— machines to press tears from the eyes of 
widows and orphans — antechambers to per- 
dition — which are so abundant in this wicked 
world. Shun them — hate them — despise 
them — from the lowest groggery to the most 
splendid theatre. Never help yourselves to 
cash by helping others to bitter remorse, 
poverty, disgrace, and ruin. You have no 
right to do ^ this. No human law can give 
you the right. 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 1G9 

Before leaving this part of the subject, it 
may be proper to say a few words upon the 
manner of supporting your rights as citizens. 
You are not bound to submit to any en- 
croachments upon your civil rights, except in 
cases in which the vindication of those rights 
would cost you more than they are worth, or 
the suffering of the wrong would exert a 
moral influence which would be worth more 
to the public than what you lose is to yon. 
In such cases, it would be your duty, as a 
Christian, or even as a good citizen, to suffer 
wrong. This lesson is taught us by our 
blessed Saviour in the following remarkable 
language : — '• Ye have heard that it hath 
been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for 
a tooth : but I say unto you, That ye resist 
not evil ; but whosoever shall smite thee on 
thy right cheek turn to him the other also. 
And if any man will sue thee at the law, and 
take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak 
also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go 
a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that 
asketh thee ; and from him that would bor- 
row of thee turn not thou away." Matthew 
v, 38-42. 

When you find it proper to seek a remedy 
for any encroachment upon your rights, you 
must not forget that you are a member of 



170 MANLY CHARACTER. 

society, and that one of the conditions of the 
social compact is, that you yield to society 
the prerogative of avenging your social 
wrongs, or punishing those who may have 
been guilty of perpetrating them. You are 
not your own judge, jury, and gaoler. You 
must seek your redress in an orderly man- 
ner, by application to the administrators of 
justice. A mob is always wrong — they may 
be in pursuit of justice, and, so far, their 
object is right ; but the means by which they 
seek to attain it are wrong. For an indi- 
vidual to take the law into his own hands, 
and avenge his own wrongs, is- to act upon 
the mob principle. In both instances, war is 
made upon the social system : for if one man 
has a right to avenge his own wrongs, so has 
another ; if one company, or mob, has a 
right to abate an inconvenience or nuisance, 
or punish a crime, so has another; and, of 
course, this right asserted by all, would dis- 
solve society, and reduce it to a state of bar- 
barism. 

In a country like ours, in which the laws 
are made by the representatives of the people, 
and unequal or unjust laws can be repealed 
or amended with little delay, there is no ex- 
cuse for mobs, or for an unlawful assumption 
of the seat of justice in any form. It is par- 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 171 

ticularly important that the young men of 
America should be taught to respect the laws, 
and to rally around their authorized adminis- 
trators — that they should learn to consider 
themselves as members of society, and not 
as isolated individuals — that they should be 
governed by law, and not be impelled by pas- 
sion to seek their rights by brute force, or 
mob violence. Upon the adoption or rejection 
of this principle, to a great extent, depend 
the character of our future history, and the 
permanency of our free institutions. " Render 
to Caesar the things which are Caesar's," is a 
divine precept, and implies the general duty 
of respect for the legitimate government. St. 
Paul gives us the true political philosophy of 
a Christian, in the following explicit terms : 
" Let every soul be subject unto the higher 
powers. For there is no power but of God: 
the powers that be are ordained of God. Who- 
soever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth 
the ordinance of God : and they that resist 
shall receive to themselves damnation. For 
rulers are not a terror to good works, but to . 
the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of the 
power ? do that which is good, and thou shalt 
have praise of the same : for he is the min- 
ister of God to thee for good. But if thou do 
that which is evil, be afraid ; for he beareth 



172 MANLY CHARACTER. 

not the sword in vain : for he is the minister 
of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him 
that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs 
be subject, not only for wrath, but also for 
conscience' sake. For, for this cause pay ye 
tribute also : for they are God's ministers, 
attending continually upon this very thing. 
Bender therefore to all their dues : tribute to 
whom tribute is due ; custom to whom custom ; 
fear to whom fear ; honour to whom honour." 
Rom. xiii, 1-7. 

In the next place I shall invite your atten- 
tion to the responsibilities of a citizen. 

Individual responsibility extends as far as 
individual power, and no farther. No indi- 
vidual citizen is responsible for the whole 
community, unless, indeed, it can be shown 
that he occupies the singular position of hav- 
ing been able to control the conduct, and 
form the character, of the whole community. 
This is a case which, if it be supposed a pos- 
sibility, is not subject to the ordinary laws of 
human responsibility. Every community is 
. composed of individuals, and just so far as 
each one is capable of exerting an influence 
upon the character of society, just so far is he 
responsible for the evils which are found in 
social Kfe. This is the rule of justice, and the 
one by which every individual will be tried. 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 173 

It must be specially noticed, that our re- 
sponsibility extends to the influence which we 
exert upon others. If we were the only in- 
dividuals in the world, we should only be 
responsible for our actions, as they relate to 
God and ourselves. As we are social beings, 
and our actions, in various ways, influence 
society, we are responsible for the social state 
to the extent in which we have had a hand in 
forming that state. We are responsible for 
the character and conduct of others in exact 
proportion to our instrumentality in forming 
that character, and influencing that conduct. 
.Cain, the first murderer, demanded of God : 
" Am I my brother's keeper ?" This demand 
contains an anti-social principle. It implies 
that men are so isolated from each other as 
to have no social responsibilities — that each 
one has only to look out for himself. This is 
not only a most narrow and selfish view, but 
is totally contrary to the law of God and the 
conditions of the social state. If I injure a 
man's intellectual or moral character, and 
that injury results in an extensive injury to 
society, I am responsible for the result. The 
victim of my ill example, or of my corrupt 
teaching, is indeed voluntary in following me, 
and is himself responsible, but that does not 
excuse me. If the social state is such, that 



174 MANLY CHARACTER. 

men naturally and necessarily influence each 
other, we are hound, as members of the social 
compact, to consider what influence our con- 
duct and character will have upon others. 
Our responsibilities run through all the rami- 
fications of society, just so far as we come 
into contact with society, or so far as we might 
do so to its benefit. We are responsible for 
all the evil we do, for all the good we might 
do, and for all the evil we might avert, or 
remedy. Thus far I have treated the subject 
in a general way. It may be useful to give it 
a more specific bearing. 

We each have responsibilities resting upon 
us, in relation to the moral character, the 
physical and social condition, the usefulness 
and happiness of others. In relation to each 
of these branches of responsibility much might 
be said, and many illustrations might be 
given. I will, however, direct your attention 
principally to another point — and that is one 
which has special reference to your civil rela- 
tions, as members of a community of freemen, 
under a representative government. This re- 
sponsibility is centred in, or related to, the 
elective franchise. 

In one sense, in this country, the people 
govern themselves. They select, directly or 
indirectly, their legislators and executive of- 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 175 

hVers. The people, consequently, are respon- 
sible for the laws which are enacted, and for 
the manner in which they are administered. 
The whole machinery of government depends 
upon the wisdom and patriotism of the electors. 
If had or defective laws are enacted, they are 
the work of the men whom the people em- 
ployed to legislate for them. If they are not 
repealed, it is because the people's servants 
will not repeal them. If the laws which are 
enacted for the security of the State and the 
protection of the people, are badly admin- 
istered, it is through the delinquency of the 
officers whom the people selected for the pur- 
pose of carrying out the intentions and objects 
of legislation — plainly, because the executive 
agency is unfaithful to the obligations of their 
official oath. The evils, in some instances, 
may be without remedy for the time ; but, on 
the occasion of the next election, the unfaith- 
ful steward may be removed, and another put 
into his place, who will regard his pledged 
obligations and the interests of his constitu- 
ents. Should those who exercise the elective 
franchise not use it for the removal of the 
grievance, they become parties to the social 
injustice, and share in its responsibilities. 

A correspondent of the New- York Observer 
give us the following timelv admonition: — 



176 MANLY CHARACTER. 

" There are already ominous appearances in 
our political horizon. We have, within a few 
years, witnessed events which the founders of 
our political institutions never apprehended. 
Dangers thicken around our happy country. 
While everything is proceeding prosperously, 
Christians may he indulged in their love of 
retirement and peace ; but when the republic 
is in jeopardy, it behooves them to come out 
and exert their influence to preserve our free 
institutions, and to ward off those evils which 
threaten to mar or destroy our peace, order, 
and liberty.' 7 

All this goes to set in a strong light the 
responsibilities of electors. As you, young 
gentlemen, if God shall preserve your lives, 
are soon to take upon you this part of the 
duties of a citizen of this great republic, it 
becomes you to consider how far you are re- 
sponsible for the enactment of its laws and 
administration of its government. You should 
study the civil polity of the country, and 
labour to understand it, and be prepared to 
act intelligently in sustaining or reforming 
it, as the case may be, and in giving character 
to its administration. 

Your responsibilities may not only extend 
to the simple act of casting your vote, but you 
may find it possible, and even important, to 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 177 

make your influence felt in the primary ar- 
rangements. You may have responsihilities 
in relation to the nominations as well as the 
ns. Often much depends upon the pri- 
mary arrangements, and quite too often these 
are carved out by a small company of office- 
seekers, who are utterly selfish and unprin- 
cipled. The public good may require that 
they should be thwarted, and the object may 
be within your power. Should this be the 
case, and you should neglect to use your in- 
fluence to that etfeet, you will not have met 
your responsibilities, as an enlightened free- 
man should always do. 

I would be far from having you assume the 
character of a demagogue, or a brawling poli- 
tician. There is scarcely a character to bo 
named for which I have the same amount of 
contempt. I hope you will always be honour- 
able, above-board, and perfectly patriotic, in 
all your political movements. Strive to dif- 
fuse light by all possible means. Convert as 
many of your fellow-citizens to your opinions 
as you may by honest and Christian efforts ; and 
run the miserable demagogues off the track, 
if you can do it fairly. But beware of the 
clap-trap and the gross assaults upon character 
practised in the usual political gossip of our 
electioneering campaigns. 
12 






178 MANLY CHARACTER. 

The following sentiments from our great 
statesman, Daniel Webster, are worthy of 
being well considered. Says he : " There has 
been openly announced a sentiment, which I 
consider as the very concrete of false morality, 
which declares that ' all is fair in politics/ 
If a man speaks falsely, or calumniously of 
his neighbour, and is reproached for the of- 
fence, the ready excuse is this — it was in 
relation to public and political matters ; I 
cherished no personal ill-will whatever against 
that individual, bi*fc quite the contrary ; I 
spoke of my adversary merely as a political 
man. In my opinion, the day is coming when 
falsehood will stand for falsehood, and calumny 
will be treated as a breach of the command- 
ment, whether it be committed politically, or 
in the concerns of private life." Would that 
the day might come soon. The idea of one 
code of morality for a politician, or a public 
man, and another for the private citizen, is 
an outrage upon all common-sense ; and yet 
that idea seems to have gained great credit, 
and to have obtained the authority of a canon 
in too many quarters. 

Those miserable vampires, who are always 
wonderfully concerned for " the dear people," 
and seem to think all the responsibilities of 
the government rest upon their shoulders, are 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 179 

universally patriotic, and loud in their profes- 
sions of " principle," when the fact is, that 
the sum total of their stimulus to action re- 
solves itself into John Randolph's " seven prin- 
ciples of a politician — the five loaves and 
two fishes." These men must be superseded 
in our political arrangements, or our govern- 
ment will soon he as corrupt as any of the 
rotten and oppressive monarchies of the Old 
World. Whatever your responsibilities may re- 
quire of you in this matter, meet them like men. 

Next, I pass to notice the duties of a citizen. 

The duties of a citizen will be suggested by 
what has been said of his responsibilities. His 
duties and responsibilities are correlative. It 
is the duty of the citizen in general to sup- 
port the State to the utmost of his ability, 
and to contribute to its stability, wealth, and 
prosperity. 

The conditions of the social compact are 
protection on the one side, and support on 
the other. To ask for, or claim, the fulfil- 
ment of the condition on the part of society, 
without meeting the conditions on our part, 
would be unjust. He who lives in society, 
and avails himself of its protection, without 
rendering society any service, is a mere drone 
in the hive, and deserves to be driven into 
solitude to provide fur himself, independent 



180 MANLY CHARACTER. 

of the rest of the world. He who refuses to 
be governed by the civil and municipal regu- 
lations of the community, of which he consti- 
tutes a part, has no right to claim the inter- 
ference of the civil law for his own protection 
from acts of violence and injustice. If the 
law is good for one, it is good for another ; if 
we would be covered by its shield, we must 
bow to its sceptre : and if we would avail our- 
selves of its benefits, we must bear our share 
of the expenses of its support. 

1. AVe are bound to pay the taxes necessary 
for the support of the government. 

This includes the .support of the legislature, 
of the executive, and of the military, or the 
arrangements necessary for the defence of the 
country. It also includes all public improve- 
ments necessary for the greater safety and 
prosperity of the country. Public institutions, 
penal and charitable, are also embraced. It 
is our duty, as citizens, to bear our share of 
the public burdens, according to a just esti- 
mate of our abilities or means. If we have a 
greater amount of property to be protected 
by law than another, we ought to contribute 
proportionably more for the support of the 
machinery of government. The divine rule is, 
" Unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall 
be much required ; and to whom men have 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 1^1 

committed mucli, of hiin they will ask the 

more." 

'2. As citizens it is, or will be, your duty 
bo assist in preserving the purity of the gov- 
ernment, and a just administration of the laws. 

lou have a duty to do just answering to 
your responsibilities as an elector. That you 
may discharge this duty intelligently, and to 
the benefit of the State, you must acquaint 
yourselves with the great issues raised, and 
the character and qualifications of the candi- 
dates for office: A party politician is not a 
very enviable character, for the reason that 
he is generally an office-seeker, or in some 
way derives his support from a political party. 
He is, consequently, always under the sus- 
picion of selfish motives. He is not presumed 
to be stimulated by patriotism, but rather by 
" the loaves and fishes." I would, consequent- 
ly, have you beware of dipping deeply into party 
politics. Not that I would have you indif- 
ferent to the issues which political parties 
bring before the country for its consideration 
and action. There is occasion for you to be 
wide awake to these. Utter indifference in 
the midst of high political excitement, is not 
always wise, although it is quite common with 
vast masses of our most staid and sensible 
citizens. 



182 MANLY CHARACTER. 

A graphic writer thus presents the case : — 
" Fiery radicalism to-day, and phlegmatic cus- 
tom to-morrow, rule the national mind ; and 
neither advances it in true experience. The 
mass of the population, however, take but 
little part, or even interest, in this contest of 
influences, vitally as they may be concerned 
in the result. For even in this free republic, 
it can be proved by the poll returns, that com- 
paratively few of the voters of any town actu- 
ally vote ; and usually the best and soundest 
members of the community neglect to do so, 
through indifference for either candidate, or 
from an unwillingness to crowd their way 
through the rowdies at the polls. Nor do 
they take any measures or make any effort to 
secure the nomination of other candidates for 
office, but allow interested partisans to pro- 
pose party hacks at caucus meetings, and then 
permit these same expectants of some of the 
crumbs of the " loaves and fishes," to vote in 
their patrons, while they themselves either 
cast no vote at all, or throw away their fran- 
chise by scattering votes. They mistake su- 
pineness for moderation, and betray their 
country by being neither rebels nor tories. 
Destiny wafts the ship of state within the 
monster-guarded straits ; and while the cap- 
tain with his adherents insists upon bearding 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 183 

the six-headed danger on the right in its very 
den, the mate's party are for clinging with 
pusillanimous folly to the smooth current on 
the left. The passive crew, in the mean time, 
neither mutinous to the vehemence of the 
former, nor insensible to the caution of the 
latter, steer their ambiguous course midway 
between : but, alas ! they have not removed 
themselves from either hazard ; the remnant 
that Scylla's fangs have not selected, are 
straightway entombed in the still vortex of 
Charybdis. Solitary are the Ulysses that 
escape at last with their naked lives, to tell 
the tale." — Freedom of Thought, the True Mean: 
an address, by James Strong, A. M. 

Above all things, never be the dupe of 
political aspirants — never take your political 
creed upon trust — study the subject, and think 
for yourselves. Undue deference is the nour- 
ishment upon which political demagogues and 
political aspirants live. This is the ladder 
upon which ambition and usurpation have 
always ascended to the heights of despotic 
power. What was it but the confidence and 
the adoration of the people of France which 
gave Xapoleon Bonaparte his ascendancy, and 
enabled him to outshine all the monarchs of 
Europe — to depose and crown kings at pleas- 
ure ? Political men need watching — they need 



184 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to feel their responsibility to the people, and 
to understand fully that their supporters are 
not so stupidly blind as to be incapable of 
seeing their aberrations, nor so devoted to 
party interests as to support them, right or 
wrong. When you become afraid to abandon 
a faithless public servant, or can so far have 
forgotten your duty to the country at large 
as to cleave to and support a party in meas- 
ures which you know to be injurious to the 
body politic, or only beneficial to a section of 
it, you have already become recreant to your 
duty. A broad, liberal, patriotic platform is 
only worthy of an American citizen. No lim- 
ited, local, sectional, partisan feeling, should 
enter into the composition of his political char- 
acter, or the formation of his political creed. 
Your maxim should be: Our country, our 
whole country, one and inseparable. 

3. As citizens, you will be called upon for 
your contributions to the common stock of 
useful knowledge, and the means of enlighten- 
ing the public mind. 

You have no right to dwarf your own 
intellectual powers, or to withhold from 
the community your best efforts to spread 
useful information. Your mind must be 
well stored with practical wisdom, and you 
must be prepared, on all suitable- occa- 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 185 

sions and in all proper modes, to communi- 
cate it to others. If you choose a profession, 
your line of duty, in this respect, will be 
marked out with tolerable distinctness. If 
you become a man of business, still you have 
your sphere, and are by no means without 
opportunities to shed light upon the masses 
with which you mingle. Whatever you can 
do to enlighten, and so to elevate individuals 
or masses, it is your bounden duty to do. It 
is a contribution to the interests of society, 
which you cannot withhold without becoming 
guilty of social injustice. 

You will find many avenues of usefulness 
open before you. You should exert an influ- 
ence over the common schools of your county, 
town, or district, as the case may be. Assist in 
establishing libraries for popular use. Support 
lectures, which have for their object general 
information upon subjects of practical interest. 
Help in organizing literary societies, or ly- 
ceums, debating societies, and in all other 
movements which will promote inquiry, and 
inform and elevate the minds of all classes. 

4. Finally, it will become your duty as a 
citizen, to contribute to the public morality. 

The strength and social happiness of a 
State depend upon its morality ; consequently, 
he who demoralizes the community, is an 



186 MANLY CHARACTER. 

enemy and a curse in its midst. A foreign 
force may be powerless, but a traitor is 
mighty for evil. Many States have success- 
fully repelled all foreign aggression, and have 
finally fallen by treachery. " One sinner de- 
stroyed much good." A mortified limb en- 
dangers the whole body. An evil worker in 
society, is a firebrand among combustibles. 

A method of promoting the morals of the 
community, within the reach of all, is by 
example. Society has a demand upon all its 
members for a wholesome, moral example. 
Your words, spirit, and bearing — your man- 
ners and habits — will make an impression just 
so far as you are observed, and as you exert 
an influence. If your morals are bad, your 
contact is more dangerous than the plague. 
Never fall into the egregious error of sup- 
posing that you pass on through the world 
without being noticed, or influencing the char- 
acter and habits of others. You are making 
an impression every day, which is moulding 
the character and fixing the fate of other im- 
mortal beings. For this influence you are 
responsible to God and to the world. The 
love of God, and the best interests of the 
community, require that your example should 
be salutary — should promote the public morals 
and the general happiness. 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 187 

It is the duty of the good citizen to do 
nothing that would be a snare to others, how- 
ever innocent in itself, unless it is an obvious 
and imperative duty. Supposing it were a 
fact, beyond doubt, that you could indulge 
in the moderate use of intoxicating drinks, 
without the danger of becoming an inebriate ; 
still, if your example would induce others to 
indulge in the moderate use of the article, 
and they, in all probability, would become 
drunkards, it would be your duty to abstain 
from intoxicating drinks as a beverage alto- 
gether, for the sake of those who would be 
endangered by your example. 

It will be your duty to uphold moral and 
religious institutions, as the most certain sup- 
ports of the State, and the most effectual 
means of promoting the general welfare. How 
would that citizen be regarded, who should 
be in favour of demolishing the churches, dis- 
solving the missionary and Bible societies, and 
suppressing the preaching of the gospel, and 
all public worship ? No one would consider 
him a true patriot. It would at once be said 
by ten thousand, who are not Church mem- 
bers, that all history proclaims the truth, that 
a State without religion falls and crumbles 
by its own weight. No true lover of his coun- 
try would wish our glorious Sabbath-school 



188 MANLY CHARACTER. 

institution abolished, and the children, on the 
Lord's day, scattered abroad, running in the 
streets, or over the fields, like the wild deer 
of the mountain. 

As good citizens you will aid all these insti- 
tutions. You will consider society more happy, 
your own rights, and those of all others, more 
safe, in proportion as these institutions are 
well sustained, and exert an influence upon the 
public mind and heart. You will, conse- 
quently, see it to be a patriotic and social duty 
to give your means, your influence, and your 
personal efforts, to build churches, to circulate 
the Bible, to support preaching and public 
worship, and to sustain Sabbath schools, mis- 
sionary and tract societies. As a matter of 
course, you will feel it your duty, as a good 
citizen, to bear a faithful testimony against 
all public immoralities, and all demoralizing 
institutions, exhibitions, and practices what- 
soever. You will sustain the municipal au- 
thorities and the police in all proper efforts to 
restrain vice and to promote the public morals. 
You will do all this without fear or favour, or 
your citizenship will be " a price put into a 
fool's hands to improve," who " has no heart 
to it." You will fail to do your duty to so- 
ciety, to your country, and to your God, when- 
ever you come before the fickle multitude, and 



CIVIL MANHOOD. 189 

are driven from your position as a supporter 
of moral order. The citizen, as well as the 
Church member and the minister of the gos- 
pel, is awfully responsible for the morals of 
the community. 

Lax morals in high places, in men of edu- 
cation and wealth, in officers of the govern- 
ment, in our professional men, are a most 
fearful evil. Especially for men who are sworn 
to keep the peace and defend the law, to per- 
mit both to be broken in their presence, is a 
monstrous scandal in a professedly Christian 
community. A portion of the responsibility, 
in all such cases, rests upon the private citi- 
zen, and cannot be shaken off. 

In all these respects do your duty as a good 
citizen, and as such you will be respected and 
happ} r . To be a full-grown man among your 
peers, young gentlemen, is a thing entirely 
within your reach. Those who run for it, will 
reach the goal. 



190 MANLY CHARACTER. 



VIII.-MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 

" WHEREWITH SHALL A YOUNG MAX CLEANSE HIS "WAY ? BY TAK- 
ING HEED THERETO ACCORDING TO THY WORD.' 1 — PSA. CXTX, 9. 

We now have arrived at that point in our 
general subject, which relates especially to 
morals. I purpose to embrace in the discus- 
sion, the important principles and features of 
internal and external religion, or moral man- 
hood, as it relates to the heart and life. In 
the present lecture, I shall invite your atten- 
tion to the internal qualities of a moral, or a 
religious man. 

The first of these qualities which will be 
noticed on this occasion, is an enlightened, a 
purified, and a well-trained conscience. 

Conscience is defined by Dr. Wayland to 
be a discriminating and an impulsive faculty 
of the soul. It judges of the right, and im- 
pels to it. It does this when it is not blinded 
<>r pre vented by ignorance, by prejudice, or 
by passion. This faculty of the soul suffers, 
as do all our moral powers, by the workings 
of our native depravity, and the influences of 
education and habit. It often becomes so 
sadly perverted, as to call evil good, and good 
evil — darkness light, and light darkness. It 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 191 

is the work of religion to educate the con- 
science, and save it from the perverting influ- 
ences to which it is subject, and even to 
"purge" it "from dead works to serve the 
living God." Heb. ix, 14. 

The enlightenment of the conscience is noth- 
ing more nor less than such a degree of the 
knowledge of God and our relations to him, 
as will fix in the soul a conviction of moral 
obligation, and enable the judgment to dis- 
criminate between what is required and what 
is forbidden. This light is ordinarily com- 
municated through the medium of the Scrip- 
tures and the preaching of the gospel, ren- 
dered effective by the influences of the Holy 
Spirit. 

The mind of man is naturally dark. " The 
natural man receiveth not the things of the 
Spirit of God ; for they are foolishness unto 
him ; neither can he know them, because they 
are spiritually discerned." 1 Cor. ii, 14. Hu- 
man philosophy could never enlighten the 
conscience; for the very idea of a conscience 
supposes the ideas of God and the divine law. 
A revelation only could give to man a knowl- 
edge of his true relations to God, and of the 
duties growing out of them. The consciences 
of the heathen are the result of a dim shadow- 
ing forth of the " eternal power and Godhead," 



192 MANLY CHARACTER. 

from original revelations, and the operations 
of the Spirit on their hearts. Without these, 
" the invisible things of him from the cre- 
ation" would not have suggested the idea of 
moral obligation ; and without the idea of a di- 
vine lawgiver, a law, and moral obligation, the 
idea of conscience could never have existed, 
because conscience passes judgment upon our 
conduct in reference to a standard of moral 
obligations. 

That you may have an enlightened con- 
science, you must take in the rays of spiritual 
light which come from the Sun of righteous- 
ness. Study the divine rule with great dili- 
gence and impartiality, -Apply its require- 
ments to your own heart and life. Let the 
light of the word enter the darkness of your 
understanding. It is "quick and powerful, 
sharper than a two-edged sword, and is a dis- 
cerner — KQL-uibc, a critic — of the thoughts and 
intents of the heart." Heb. iv, 12. If per- 
mitted, it will enter every chink of the soul, 
shine into its darkest corners, and criticise all 
its motions and aspirations. 

It will also be necessary to improve the light 
reflected by the word upon the understanding 
and heart. The power of the soul to discern 
good and evil, and to be moved by the im- 
pulsions of conscience, will much depend upon 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 193 

its exercise. Light unimproved, soon goes out 
in darkness. "And if the light that is in 
you be darkness, how great is that darkness !" 
The conscience, like all other powers and func- 
tions of human nature, to operate efficiently, 
must he exercised. We must accustom our- 
selves to moral distinctions, must cultivate 
our sense of right and wrong, until conscience 
becomes quick-sighted and accurate in all its 
judgments. 

Conscience requires education. It is im- 
perfect, and consequently uncertain in its 
monitions, until it has been trained and exer- 
cised in its appropriate work. Right decis- 
ions will finally become matters of habit, and 
constitute the rule instead of the exception. 
All possible means must be used to bring this 
divine light in the soul to a proper pitch of 
intensity. The moral standard of the con- 
science must be raised to the high point of 
moral distinction occupied by God's holy law. 
This result cannot be achieved by the mere 
unaided efforts of man. It is only when 
human weakness is aided by the divine Spirit, 
that the moral sense can be brought to this 
state of perfection. Diligent use of all the 
spiritual gifts which God has inqmrted to us, 
and the aid which he will impart in answer 
to prayer, will constitute the conscience truly 



194 MANLY CHARACTEK. 

" the voice of God in man" — or " God's vice- 
gerent on earth." 

A conscience thus educated, or disciplined, 
will he tender or sensitive. A feeling conscience 
is what you want — not one that has "become 
callous. It may, hy some, be thought desirable 
to have a conscience that gives us but little 
trouble, one that can endure a vast pressure 
without crying out, that can suffer terrible 
friction without feeling it. But from such a 
conscience, my young friends, you have as 
much reason to pray to be delivered, as you 
have from hell itself, for it is the certain pre- 
cursor of final and eternal ruin. An indurated 
conscience is the certain proof of divine aban- 
donment, and of a near approach to perdition. 
A sore conscience is far better than one hard- 
ened by the deceitfulness of sin ; a conscience 
too sensitive, is preferable to one that has 
no sensibility — the one may be troublesome, 
but the other is fatal. 

Now, young gentlemen, may I appeal to 
your experience, in relation to the present 
condition of your moral feelings and judg- 
ments, in comparison with what they once 
were? Once you felt compunction when you 
departed but slightly from the counsels of 
your parents, and disregarded the early con- 
victions of childhood. How is it with you 



MORAL AXP RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 195 

now? Your feet have slipped often, and if 
you have not been careful to recover your 
position by repentance, and seeking pardon at 
" the throne of grace," you have been gradu- 
ally, and perhaps imperceptibly, gliding down 
the steep, until you have become delirious, 
and begin at length to hope for safety in some 
way, without the toil of retracing your steps, 
and gaining the ascent above you. Your con- 
science has been buffeted and mocked, until 
it has little power. It has been abandoned 
to passion and selfishness, until it is stultified. 
Deeds which once caused you much pain and 
shame, are now enacted with little or no re- 
morse, preceded by cool calculation, and fol- 
lowed by utter indifference as to the conse- 
quences. This, I fear, is an accurate account 
of the experience of some of you — I could 
hope not many — and is fearfully ominous of 
a most fatal catastrophe. For it is said in the 
good Book : " He that, being often reproved, 
hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroy- 
ed, and that without remedy." 

God sometimes awakens the sleepy con- 
science of the sinner, and gives him a foretaste 
of what he will feel in the future world. The 
following most graphic view is from Coleridge : 
— " How deeply seated the conscience is in 
the human soul, is seen in the effect which 



196 MANLY CHARACTER. 

sudden calamities produce on guilty men, 
even when unaided by any determinate notion 
or fears of punishment after death. The 
wretched criminal, as one rudely awaked from 
a long sleep, bewildered with the new light, 
and half recollecting, half striving to recol- 
lect a fearful something, he knows not what, 
but which he will recognise as soon as he hears 
the name, already interprets the calamities 
into judgments, executions of a sentence pass- 
ed by an invisible Judge ; as if the vast pyre 
of the last judgment were already kindled in 
an unknown distance, and some flashes of it, 
darting forth at intervals beyond the rest, 
were flying and lighting upon the face of his 
soul. The calamity may consist in loss of 
fortune, or character, or reputation ; but you 
hear no regrets from him : remorse extin- 
guishes all regret; and remorse is the im- 
plicit creed of the guilty." — Aids to Reflection. 
Aphorism xlvi. 

To those who have not yet reached this fear- 
ful point of apostasy from the " God of their 
fathers," but still continue to listen, with 
more or less attention, to the voice of con- 
science, I would say, with emphasis : Follow 
the dictates of this inward monitor in every- 
thing — things small as ivell as great He who 
begins to tamper with his conscience,. knows 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 107 

not how soon it may be abused into silence. 
Neglect its monitions in small tilings, and 
you will imperceptibly pass on from small to 
great offences. The strictest conscientious- 
ness is the only point of safety. One remove 
will probably be followed by another, and an- 
other, until all the barriers between you and 
perdition are broken down. On the other 
hand, the longer you maintain your integrity, 
the easier it is to do so — the more firmly you 
will find yourselves fixed in the good and the 
right way. The certain and uniform law is, 
that conscience is strengthened by use, and 
enfeebled by neglect. The following is from 
the acute mind of Dr. South : — 

" No man ever yet offended his own con- 
science, but first or last it was revenged upon 
him for it. So that it will become a man to 
treat this great principle carefully and warily, 
by still observing what it commands, but spe- 
cially what it forbids : and if he would al- 
ways have it a faithful and sincere monitor to 
him, let him be sure never to turn a deaf ear 
to it ; for not to hear it is the way to silence 
it. Let him strictly observe the first stirrings 
and intimations, the first hints and whispers 
of good and evil that pass in his heart, and 
this will keep conscience so quick and vigilant, 
and ready to give a man true alarms upon the 



108 MANLY CHARACTER. 

least approach of his spiritual enemy, that he 
shall be hardly capable of a great surprise. 

" On the contrary, if a man accustoms him- 
self to slight or pass over these first motions 
to good, or shrinkings of his conscience from 
evil, conscience will by degrees grow dull and 
unconcerned, and from not spying out motes, 
come at length to overlook beams ; from care- 
lessness it shall fall into a slumber, and from 
a slumber it shall settle into a deep and long 
sleep, till at last, perhaps, it sleeps itself into 
a lethargy, and that such a one, that nothing 
but hell and judgment shall be able to awaken 
it. For long disuse of anything made for 
action, will, in time, take away the very use 
of it. As I have read of one, who having for 
a disguise kept one of his eyes a long time 
covered, when he took off the covering, found 
his eye indeed where it was, but his sight 
was gone. He who would keep his conscience 
awake, must be careful to keep it stirring." — 
Nature and Measure of Conscience. Serm. 23. 

A guilty and an evil conscience has no rem- 
edy but in the regenerating influences of the 
Holy Spirit. It is in vain to resort alone to 
good resolutions, and try to make amends for 
the past, by future watchfulness. As says 
Archbishop Leighton : "To set the outward 
actions right, though with an honest inten- 






MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 199 

tion, and not so to regard and find out the 
inward disorder of the heart, whence that in 
the actions flows, is but to be still putting the 
index of a clock right with your finger, while 
it is foul or out of order within, which is a 
continual business, and does no good. ! but 
a purified conscience, a soul renewed and re- 
fined in its temper and affections, will make 
things go right without, in all the duties and 
acts of our calling." 

That a pure and peaceful conscience is an 
essential element of happiness, need not be 
proved; it will be recognised as a truth by 
you all, as soon as it is uttered. How im- 
portant it is to the great ends of human ex- 
istence, after what has been said, need not be 
discussed. 

The -next great element of religion which I 
shall notice is faith. 

The idea of religious faith, which will be 
elaborated in this connexion, may be stated 
as the reception of divine truth upon competent 
evidence. The evidence upon which this speoies 
of faith rests, must amount to a divine revela- 
tion. It ordinarily comes by the hearing of 
preaclmig, but that preaching is the reitera- 
tion and enforcement of truth revealed in the 
Scriptures, and divinely attested. 

This faith is rational. It rests upon evi- 



200 MANLY CHARACTER. 

dence which is tangible and conclusive. Some 
degree of knowledge of the facts and doctrines 
of the gospel is necessary to Christian faith. 
There may be saving faith where this knowl- 
edge is very slight, but this is only in cases 
where the means of knowing the elements of 
Christianity are few. With those in your cir- 
cumstances it is an imperative duty, and is 
absolutely necessary to a strong and opera- 
tive faith, that they should become acquainted 
with the Scriptures — with the facts and doc- 
trines which they teach. A slight examina- 
tion of the Bible will bring home to your 
mind the fact, that it records miracles and 
prophecies which must necessarily imply the 
presence of divine wisdom and power, which, 
of course, gives divine sanction to the claims 
of the writers, and the records of Holy Scrip- 
ture. 

A careful reading, and a thorough study 
of the Scriptures, will be suggested by the 
high claims which they make, and will be 
necessary to a rational and stable faith. 
" Search the Scriptures ; for in them ye think 
ye have eternal life, and they are they which 
testify of me." This mandate and reason are 
as applicable to you as they were to the Jews, 
for whom they were originally designed ; and, 
at least, as applicable now to the New Testa- 



MURAL AMD RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 201 

ment, as they wore, when uttered by our Lord, 
to the Old Scriptures. All experience and 
observation will show that scepticism is the 
result of no knowledge, or, at least, a very 
slight knowledge of the Scriptures ; that a 
weak and unavailing faith, or an utter want 
of it, is found where the mind has been left 
to its own native darkness and sterility, with- 
out the illuminating and cheering beams of 
inspired truth. Hence the importance of 
a large acquaintance with the records of 
our salvation, to an elevated and rational 
faith. 

By rational faith you are not to understand 
a faith which grasps the mode and manner of 
all truths which are believed. It seems not 
to have been the object of divine revelation to 
explain the philosophy of facts or doctrines. 
The revelation simply announces great facts 
and principles without undertaking to explain 
their harmony with the laws of nature, or 
how and ivhy they exist as they do, in prefer- 
ence to some other form or mode. A truth 
may be above reason, and not be contrary to it. 
A fact may be credible when the mode of its 
existence is beyond the grasp of the human 
intellect. That scepticism which will believe 
no truth of divine revelation, which in its 
mode of existence is incomprehensible, should 



202 MANLY CHARACTER. 

doubt all the phenomena of nature which 
come under the same classification. 

It is the office of reason to apply the laws 
of evidence to the claims of a revelation, and 
the laws of interpretation to its language, and 
then to pause in submission and listen to its 
utterances. It is not mere credulity, but ra- 
tional faith, to believe all that we find in the 
Scriptures, after satisfying ourselves that 
these Scriptures are the word of God, al- 
though we find many things there which we 
are not able fully to understand. It is by no 
means unreasonable to suppose that, in a book 
of divine revelations, there would be much 
which would require study, and the lapse of 
time, fully to develop its wealth of wisdom 
and truth. How unreasonable is it to sup- 
pose that a revelation from God should con- 
tain nothing but such simple truths as could 
be fathomed by all minds, of all ages and 
countries, at a single glance. It would be 
wholly unlike all other efforts of the divine 
mind. Nature has her mysteries, immeas- 
urable and profound, which are only be- 
ginning to be developed and understood, and 
yet no wise man denies her divine origin, 
or pretends for a moment to think her un- 
worthy of God. 

We ask you to believe nothing that is con- 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MAXHOOD. 203 

trary to reason. In all matte^ which are 
level to the analysis and comprehension of 
reason, you are to follow its decisions. The 
old maxim of Tertullian, " Cerium est quia 
impossibile est" — it is certainly true because it 
is impossible — might suit the overheated im- 
agination of an ascetic, but is nonsense with 
a Christian philosopher. Xor are you urged 
to strain your faith to a grasp of the mys- 
teries of revelation beyond the mere facts 
revealed. Sir Thomas Brown says : " I love 
to lose myself in a mystery, and it is my soli- 
tary recreation to pose my apprehension with 
those involved enigmas and riddles of the 
Trinity and incarnation.' 7 His, however, was 
a singularly constituted mind. Few, very 
few, are able to escape unharmed from such 
intellectual adventures beyond the regions of 
legitimate philosophy. The whole truth is 
expressed in these words of Leighton : " Faith 
elevates them not only above sense and sensi- 
ble things, but above reason itself. As reason 
corrects the errors which sense might occa- 
sion, so supernatural faith corrects the errors 
of natural reason judging according to sense." 
The wisdom of this world subjects everything 
to the test of natural laws ; but faith, guided 
by divine light and spiritual influences, goes 
far beyond nature, apprehending things 



204 MANLY CHARACTER. 

which are u^geen. " Faith is the substance 
of things hoped for, the evidence of things 
not seen." 

The next idea embraced in faith, is submis- 
sion. The will must be made a captive by 
the convictions, and whatever is found to be 
imposed or required in divine revelation, must 
be practically acquiesced in. The idea here 
presented is illustrated by the contrary course 
taken by the unbelieving Jews. St. Paul 
says : " For they, being ignorant of God's 
righteousness, and going about to establish 
their own righteousness, have not submitted 
themselves unto the righteousness of God." 
Bom. x, 3. They hardened their hearts against 
the convictions of the truth, and would not 
submit themselves to the righteousness of God 
— that is, to the gospel method of salvation. 

Christian faith is not a mere intellection — 
it has much to do with the heart St. Paul 
puts the language of faith thus : " If thou 
shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, 
and shalt believe in thy heart that God hath 
raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. 
For with the heart man believeth unto right- 
eousness ; and with the mouth confession is 
made unto salvation." Ptom. x, 9, 10. The con- 
dition of the affections has more to do with 
faith and unbelief, than is generally supposed. 



MORAL AXD RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 205 

Unbelievers usually plead the want of light 
or evidence ; whereas the main barrier in the 
way of their believing, is a bad state of heart 
— they are, at heart, opposed to the gospel, 
and will not submit to its terms, and, conse- 
quently, they try to furnish themselves with 
reasons for rejecting it. Christ says : "If any 
man will do his will, he shall know of the 
doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I 
speak of myself." John vii, 17. Practical in- 
fidelity is the fruit of a bad heart, and not of 
a deficiency of evidence. Those who consider 
faith the mere and the necessary result of 
evidence, do not understand its true nature. 
I speak now, not of that natural faith which 
credits the information of the senses on testi- 
mony in relation to a natural fact ; but of that 
divine faith which receives Christ and his 
cross, the true evangelical faith which justi- 
fies the ungodly : that faith is not only the 
light of the understanding, but the concur- 
rence of the will. It is a volition, and a vo- 
lition moved by the power of the Spirit and 
the love of Christ. It is a moral exercise, 
and, consequently, a rewardable virtue, and 
not the mere accident of a certain arrange- 
ment of circumstances : so that the declaration 
of Christ : " He that believeth shall be saved ; 
and he that believeth not shall be damned," 



206 MANLY CHARACTER. 

is every way consistent with reason and jus- 
tice. It is when the process of faith reaches 
the affections and the will, that the sinner 
pauses and objects. A formal consent to the 
theoretical truths of the gospel is compara- 
tively easy, and most persons who have had 
a Christian education go so far as this. To 
submit to the way of salvation by grace alone, 
to take up the cross and follow Christ, is 
quite another thing. Here the pride of the 
human heart rebels, and all its depravity 
offers a stout resistance. Now the heart must 
be broken with a sense of the evil of sin, and 
feel its own absolute wretchedness and help- 
lessness, before it will bow to the easy yoke 
of Christ. It will go about to establish its 
own righteousness, until it becomes utterly 
self-despairing, and gives up all other pleas 
but the meritorious death of Christ as the 
ground of acceptance. Then, and then only, 
will it " submit itself to the righteousness of 
God." 

This faith implies confidence, or trust. It 
rests upon the truth of God. Confiding faith 
is more than a pure idea — it supposes an in- 
terest intrusted, something of personal value 
thrown into the keeping of God. St. Paul 
says of Abraham, that he was " fully per- 
suaded that what God had promised he was 



1 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 207 

able also to perform/' Rom. iv, 21. He had 
confidence in the promise of God ; he rested 
unwaveringly in his truth. It is no small 
matter to confide fully in the truth of God's 
promises in relation to ourselves — it requires 
a towering faith. This trust will apply espe- 
cially to the divine promises, but not to them 
alone. It embraces all that God has said — 
the truth of his revelations. It not only em- 
braces that which, to human reason, is proba- 
ble, but that which is against all human 
probability. Such was the faith of Abraham, 
that a son should be born to him in his old 
age : and also that God would, in some way, 
fulfil his promise, that " in Isaac his seed 
should be called," and that Sarah should be 
" the mother of a multitude of nations," when 
he was required to offer up Isaac as a sacri- 
fice upon one of the mountains of Moriah. 
There seemed a plain contradiction between 
the promise and the requirement, and yet the 
strong faith of Abraham overcame all the 
difficulties arising from the apparent discre- 
pancy, and firmly rested upon the simple truth 
of Jehovah. 

The great importance of the Christian faith 
which I have endeavoured to describe, can 
scarcely be estimated — it lies at the founda- 
tion of morals. Indeed, we can have no ra- 



208 MANLY CHARACTER. 

tional idea of moral feelings without faith in 
God : and how there can be laid a broad and 
firm foundation for the superstructure of 
moral character, without this specific evan- 
gelical faith, we might challenge any one to 
show. The beauties of virtue — the health, 
wealth, and social happiness, which result from 
truth, justice, and chastity, have never yet 
been sufficient to induce men generally to 
conform to these great moral principles. Faith 
in the existence and government of God, in 
the mediatorial scheme, and in a future retri- 
bution, has been found the only solid basis of 
morals. 

This faith is equally the foundation of hope 
and the spring of action. Where are there any 
stable grounds of hope for the future, or any 
adequate motive for painful, persevering toil 
to better our condition, or the moral condition 
of the world around us, but in faith — the faith 
that brings us to Christ — that justifies, sanc- 
tifies, and saves forever ? It would be easy to 
show that all other sources of encouragement, 
hope, and happiness, are utterly worthless. 
He who depends upon them, builds upon the 
sand, and, with his superstructure, will be 
swept away by the flood. 

Need I urge upon you, young gentlemen, 
the importance of this faith, to your safety 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 209 

and happiness, both in this world and the 
world to come? Perhaps you are just begin- 
ning to feel the cords of parental authority 
loosening, and you realize that soon you will 
assume the responsibilities of manhood. May- 
be you have just entered upon this state, and 
find yourself all at once, in a sense, your own 
man. What now, if your faith gives way, 
and you make shipwreck both of it and a 
good conscience? Or what, if you only be- 
come partially sceptical, with regard to the 
principles of that religion which was early in- 
stilled into your mind, which you drew in 
almost with your mother's milk? "What, I 
ask with deep concern, will become of you, 
when parental restraint is removed, and you, 
as yet, have not become acquainted with all 
the wiles of the devil, or the snares of this 
wicked world, if your faith in the verities of 
revelation and in the obligations of religion 
have lost its power over you ? Your passions 
are warm, your youthful blood courses quickly 
through your veins, the flesh clamours for 
gratification, the world flatters, and the enemy 
of your souls tempts you ; and if your faith 
now gives way, who, or what, shall save you ? 
O listen not for one moment to the suggestion 
that religion is a mere fancy, and the Bible a 
cunningly-devised fable. Turn aside from the 
14 



210 MANLY CHARACTER. 

seducer, and draw near to the God, the Bible, 
the religion of your fathers. 

" A strong habitual faith in the Bible, in 
God, in Christ, in providence, in judgment, 
in heaven and hell. Faith not only expresses 
itself in worship, in religious emotions, in 
zeal, in alms-deeds, but in enlightened and 
tender conscientiousness both towards God and 
man, and in a systematic and strong restraint 
upon the passions, fancy, temper, and appe- 
tites." — James. 

The last great element of inward religion, 
to which I shall invite your attention, is a 
thorough renovation of heart. 

What lias been said of a pure conscience 
and an evangelical faith, of course implies 
the renovation of heart of which I am about 
to speak. The voice of conscience brings the 
sinner to reflection, and faith secures his par- 
don and acceptance, and a new creation. The 
renovation of the heart reacts upon the con- 
science and the faith of the recipient ; so that 
there is a reciprocal influence exerted by these 
elements of spiritual life. In the commence- 
ment, one may have been the antecedent, and 
the other the sequence : but in the process 
there is a mutual dependence of one upon the 
other ; and one is aided, furthered, and per- 
fected, by the action and influence of the other. 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 211 

Regeneration is the experience of a work 
of grace upon the heart, bringing into sub- 
jection its depravity, and shedding abroad the 
love of Christ in it by the Holy Ghost. This 
spiritual renewing is a universal want. No 
man ever yet undertook to reform his own 
life — and who that has come to the years of ac- 
countability has not done this? — without being 
conscious of an inward current of wrong feel- 
ing, that he was not able to resist. He re- 
solved, and re-resolved, and yet remained the 
same ; or rather, waxed worse and worse. His 
vicious tendencies always mastered his judg- 
ment. He found the lines of Pope a most 
fearful reality : — 

" My reason this, my passions that persuade : 

I see the right, and I approve it too ; 

Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue." 

He finds a law in his members warring against 
the law of his mind, and bringing him into 
captivity. The case is beautifully and forcibly 
illustrated by St. Paul in the seventh chapter 
of his Epistle to the Romans. 

This shows the utter futility of attempting 
to reform one's heart, and to form habits of 
morality and religion merely by repeated ef- 
forts of the will. A thorough change of heart 
through divine agency, seems to be the only 
remedy for fallen humanity. Nicodemus un- 



212 MANLY CHARACTER. 

derstood not this doctrine of the new birth, 
and was stumbled, because he could not com- 
prehend the manner of it. He was " a master 
in Israel," and yet was so illy instructed him- 
self, as to object to the thing, because he could 
not comprehend the rationale, or the manner 
and philosophy of the process. Our Saviour 
refuted the objection of the learned Jew, by 
the use of a familiar similitude, all of which 
will be found in the third chapter of St. John's 
Gospel. There are many in these days as 
ignorant of the doctrine and necessity of the 
new birth as was Nicodemus, and who have 
need of the same kind rebuke and wise counsel. 
It is not material that you should under- 
stand the nature of the whole process, before 
you proceed to invoke the renovating power 
of the Holy Ghost for your regeneration. You 
must indeed know and feel that you are sin- 
ners, and that you need a spiritual renovation. 
You must then feel your utter helplessness, 
and the absolute necessity of a divine power 
to change your rebellious nature, and conform 
it to the divine will. Then submitting your- 
selves to the righteousness of God, giving God 
your heart, to be fashioned according to his 
pleasure, by a decisive act of self-renunciation 
and implicit faith, you may have no misgiv- 
ings with regard to the result. You may not 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 213 

know, nor need you seek to know, how the 
desired change will affect you, or what will 
be the nature of the evidence by which it will 
be accomplished. You must take some of 
these things upon trust, and await the experi- 
mental knowledge to bring you into possession 
of the particular kind of evidence you are too 
much disposed to demand in advance. 

When the regenerating power comes from 
above, you will feel its mighty workings, and 
will have an inward consciousness that your 
moral feelings are all completely changed, 
and you will feel and know for yourselves, 
that the hand of God is marvellously working 
in your inward nature, and moulding and 
fashioning all the fibres of your soul. When 
you become " a new creature' 7 in Christ 
Jesus, " old things will pass away, and all 
things will become new." Your opjDosition to 
God and his government will have departed ; 
the love of God will be shed abroad in your 
heart ; joy and peace in believing will fill 
your soul ; hope will cast her anchor " within 
the vail ;" you will love the service of God, 
the people of God, and even your worst ene- 
mies. The cross of Christ will be your de- 
light, and you will feel that " the kingdom of 
God," which is " righteousness, peace, and joy 
in the Holy Ghost," is set up in your heart. 



214 MANLY CHARACTER. 

Now the lineaments of the image of God, 
which had been effaced from the soul by sin, 
reappear, with more or less distinctness, and 
the soul is conscious of its own moral eleva- 
tion. Its true moral dignity and sublimity 
are re-enstamped upon it, and it realizes what 
St. John meant, when he said : " Beloved, now 
are we the sons of God.' 7 Here, young gen- 
tlemen, you have the true dignity of manhood. 
High intelligence, without moral character, 
receives no marks of reverence or respect from 
the heart of society. It may command empty 
and interested homage ; but to what purpose? 
All such outward manifestations are attended 
by secret abhorrence and contempt. What 
were the peerless talents of Lord Bacon, with- 
out fidelity to his high official trust ; and of 
Lord Byron, without the control of his pas- 
sions, and the personal purity which only 
sanctifies the social and domestic relations, 
and makes them even tolerable ? The fallen 
angels, doubtless, possess great intellects, but 
their moral qualities make them objects of 
alarm and detestation. A gigantic intellect 
associated with a bad heart, may constitute 
an object of dread, but not of either love or 
admiration. 

" In the present age, one would imagine 
from much that is said and done, that knowl- 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 215 

edge were the bread of life for the soul hun- 
gering after bliss, which would satisfy every 
desire — the panacea for diseased humanity 
which would heal every wound — the crown of 
glory upon our nature — the chief felicity of 
our present existence — and all we need for our 
happiness in another world. It is, however, 
a profound mistake, a lamentable and fatal 
error ; and it is a mistake in which nearly the 
whole world is involved. Education, apart 
from religion, is, it seems, to do everything 
for man. Ideas, ideas, ideas — are all that is 
needed to renew, reform, and bless the human 
race. Let but the species be admitted to the 
tree of knowledge, and they will find nothing 
but good to be the result. It is the darkness 
of the intellect only that is the cause of the 
depravity of the heart ; and only let in the 
light of science, and it will set all right. Such 
is the deplorable error of the moral quacks 
of the age, whose nostrum for the cure of all 
diseases is knowledge. Deluded men ! They 
would rectify society without religion, and 
govern it without God. Have they forgotten 
all history, especially that of Greece and Eome? 
Have they ever read what the apostle says : 
' For after that, in the wisdom of God, the 
world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God 
by the foolishness of preaching to save them 



216 MANLY CHARACTER. 

that believe.' 1 Cor. i, 21. It is something 
for his moral nature man needs for his happi- 
ness ; and you may as well offer science to a 
man whose limbs are dislocated, or whose flesh 
is corroding by disease, to give him health 
and enjoyment, as to an unholy soul, when 
you offer it nothing else, to give it holiness, 
ease, and contentment." — James. 

A character made up of an enlightened and 
pure conscience, an educated and strong faith, 
and a regenerated nature, with all the fruits 
which result from these inward springs of 
morality, is one of the most sublime and glo- 
rious objects in the universe of God. This is 
the highest style of manhood. Of the out- 
ward manifestations of the life of Christianity, 
I shall speak hereafter. Let me now fix upon 
your minds the doctrine, so strenuously en- 
forced by our Lord, that the tree must first 
be made good, that its fruit may be good ; 
that the fountain must be cleansed, that the 
stream may be pure. It is of the inward reno- 
vation that I am now speaking, and upon which 
I must insist with emphasis. 

Dear young friends, do not for a moment 
suppose that it will degrade or belittle you 
to bow before your God as penitents, and 
make the surrender of yourselves to him. He 
says: " My son, give me thy heart ;"— will 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 217 

you not yield to so reasonable a requirement ? 
I despair of your ever building up a moral 
and religious character upon any other basis 
than that of a powerful and thorough conver- 
sion to God. This will set you upon high 
and vantage ground in all respects. This 
will bring with it the true dignity of man- 
hood — manhood in its highest and best estate. 



218 MANLY CHARACTER. 



K.-M0RA1 AXD RELIGIOUS MAXH00D-C0F 
TI1JUED. 

" I HAVE WRITTEN UNTO YOU, YOUNG MEN, BECAUSE YE AEE 
STRONG, AND THE WORD OF GOD ABIDETH IN YOU, AND YE 
HAVE OVERCOME THE "WICKED ONE." — 1 JOHN H, 14. 

In this lecture I shall consider the nature 
and importance of practical religion. 

The religion of the New Testament is not 
a mere sentiment — it is designed to be carried 
out into active life, and to become a social 
blessing. If it were wholly a thing of the 
heart, it would be a matter of no public in- 
terest, and no man would have a right to 
concern himself about your religion, only so 
far as he might feel an interest in your per- 
sonal well-being. As it is a matter of public 
interest, it is fitting for all to be anxious that 
you may form a religious character. What 
that character implies, so far as the mind and 
heart arc concerned, we have seen in the pre- 
ceding lecture. Now we proceed to inquire, 
how it should affect the outward expression, 
or the course of life, as it assumes a public 
character. 

In tl*e first place, I urge that an experi- 
mental knowledge of Christ naturally leads 
io an outward profession of religion. 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 219 

The profession is ordinarily made by uniting 
with some accredited branch of the Church of 
Christ. The Church of Christ is a divine in- 
stitution, composed of the collective body of 
believers. The ordinary mode of holding com- 
munion with the Church, and enjoying its 
fellowship, is by a formal connexion with 
some one of its living branches, and submit- 
ting to its instructions and discipline. Ordi- 
narily, I believe it to be the duty of every 
Christian to be a member of the visible Church. 
What branch of that Church he shall attach 
himself to, is for him to determine, and his 
choice should be directed by the ends contem- 
plated in Church association. The following 
are some of the reasons for which I would 
urge all of you, who are seriously striving to 
flee the wrath to come and secure eternal 
life, to unite with some Church. 

It will fully commit you, before the world, 
to the cause of religion. 

It is generally a great safeguard to our 
principles and course of action, to feel that 
we are committed, and that the public expect 
us to act consistently with our known princi- 
ples and our professions. This will result 
from a decent respect for ourselves and for 
the opinions of mankind. Every man has a 
character. That character consists in the 



220 MANLY CHARACTER. 

estimate in which he is held — what he passes 
for — and is made up of habitudes formed by 
a series of actions. 

A religious character, made up of religious 
habits, which are known and read of all men, 
will form the basis of the estimate which will 
be placed upon you as a Christian. An amount 
of fruit will be expected from you, precisely 
in proportion to the character which you will 
have formed, and resting upon an implied 
pledge you have made, and which you feel to 
be binding. Under these circumstances you 
will feel your honour as a man, and your 
fidelity as a Christian, most sacredly bound 
to the life and duties of Christianity. A con- 
stant sense of this obligation, and of the public 
expectation founded upon it, will be found a 
strong bulwark of defence in hours of peril. 

It is scarcely necessary to prove that a pub- 
lic profession of religion, and an attendance 
upon the ordinances of God's house, are neces- 
sary to a religious character. It is too evi- 
dent to be disputed. It is the starting-point 
of a public religious life. It forms the basis, 
or goes far towards it, of the public expecta- 
tion that you will live the life of a Christian. 
You need this formal public commitment to 
the cause of religion as a stimulant and a 
safeguard. If you undertake to be religious 






•MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 221 

in a private way, so that you can give up the 
object without public disgrace, you will cer- 
tainly fail. This would indicate that you had 
not fully made up your mind whether to fight 
or fly in the hour of danger. Such a soldier 
would he sure to come out a coward. You 
should not only make no provision for a re- 
treat, hut you should provide against it — you 
should do all you can to make retreat impos- 
sible. Like the famous conquerors, of which 
history informs us, who when they reached the 
enemy's shores, burned their fleets, and as they 
passed on into the interior, broke down the 
bridges, you should do everything in your 
power to obstruct the way of a return to your 
former course of life. One method of doing 
this, and one under all ordinary circum- 
stances absolutely essential, is taking upon 
you the vows of Christ before the world, and 
uniting yourself with the Church. Your young 
heart will need all possible aids and stays ; 
and this is one of them, and one of primary 
importance. 

Another reason why you should connect 
yourself publicly with the Church, is, that it 
will save you from a vast amount of temptation. 

If you are known to be an orderly member 
of the Church, you will not be treated by a 
class of young men, whose contact is always 



222 MANLY CHARACTER. 

dangerous, as one of their number. Unless 
you foolishly invite their approach, they will 
stand aloof, and the farther they are off the 
better for you. They only need to know that 
you are not firmly settled in your religious 
principles, to put in requisition all their arts 
to lead you from the path of duty and safety. 
When they see in you the evidence that you 
are a thorough Christian, they will be likely 
to give you up to your own way. No evi- 
dence of indecision and half-heartedness is 
stronger than refusing, or neglecting, to make 
an open profession of religion. The impres- 
sion that you are not fully committed to the 
cause of God, will lay you open to a galling 
lire from all quarters; while an intimate re- 
lation to the pious will secure their prayers 
and sympathies, together with a variety of 
social influences, which will cover you as with 
a shield from the fiery darts of the Wicked 
( >nc, and make you strong in yonr position. 

Finally, you owe this public profession to 
the Church. 

While you seek the aid and sympathies of 
the Church, do you not owe her cooperation ? 
Would you wish to go to heaven with the 
people of God, without making with them com- 
mon cause ? Ought you not to bear a share 
of the burdens of the Church, the scorn and 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 223 

reproach which she endures, while you seek to 
share in her triumphs and rewards ? Is it 
right merely to wish to secure the ends of 
religion, without enduring the inconveniences 
of a religious life in this world? No, my 
dear young friends, it is not the thing at all, 
this cowardly dodging of responsibilities. He 
that would gain glory, must hazard the battle ; 
and he who would win the prize, must run 
the race. You owe to the Church your sym- 
pathies, your prayers, and all the aid you can 
afford her, by the appropriation of all your 
talents for the furtherance of her prosperity. 
This, as a dutiful son of the Church, you will 
freely acknowledge as often and as publicly 
as need requires. For her fostering care you 
cannot return neglect and abandonment in 
the time of her struggles. The mother that 
bore and nurtured you, has claims for an af- 
fectionate remembrance, public recognition, 
and hearty and unfailing devotion. 

A decided public religious course is the 
only one you can take with any credit, or the 
least promise of success. You must not be 
ostentatious of your religion ; at the same 
time you must not conceal it. On all proper 
occasions you should make yourself known in 
your Christian character, and should be so 
related and associated, that your acquaint- 



224 MANLY CHARACTER. 

ances will regard your position as by no means 
equivocal. If God has lit up the lamp of 
grace in your heart, it is not that " it may he 
put under a bushel. Let your light so shine 
before men, that they may see your good works, 
and glorify your Father which is in heaven." 
By this means you will contribute your 
quota of influence to the honour and success 
of the Church. Profession is not everything 
that is necessary, and yet it is necessary in its 
place. Our faith in Christ, and our love for 
his cause, are only known to the world by 
their fruits, and one of the developments of 
these principles of spiritual life is an open 
avowal of them — identifying our interests, for 
time and eternity, with the Church of Christ. 
The condition of discipleship is taking the 
cross and following Christ ; and certainly this 
implies all the scandal which will come from 
the world around us, in consequence of our 
identification with the fortunes of the Church. 
Her weal or woe must become ours, and of 
this we must make no secret. For the love 
of Christ, and the Church which he hath pur- 
chased with his own blood, we must lay all 
we have and are — our time, our talents, our 
honour, our earthly happiness — upon the altar 
of Christianity. If we are not willing to do 
this, we are unworthy of the name of Chris- 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 225 

tians. And when we come to this point, we 
shall be prepared, on all occasions, to show 
our colours. There will he no evading the 
name and responsibilities of a Christian 
through fear or shame. Hence I counsel you, 
my young friends, that you first become 
hearty experimental Christians; and then that 
you cast in your lot. for life, with the people 
of God. 

Again : a public profession of religion should 
be followed by a i^ompt and regular attend- 
ance upon all the imhlie means of grace. 

St. Paul says : " Forget not the assembling 
of yourselves together as the manner of some 
is." The public services of the sanctuary — 
such as the preaching of the word, the holy 
sacrament, meetings for Christian conference 
and social prayer — are imperative duties en- 
joined upon every Christian man. Without 
introducing particular proof texts upon the 
point, I would just refer you to the Acts 
of the Apostles for evidence of the esti- 
mate put upon these things by the primi- 
tive disciples of Christ. They are our ex- 
amples ; what was right and necessary for 
them, is right and necessary for us. The 
great Head of the Church, who knows what 
is best for us, and proper in itself, has made 
these conditions essential to spiritual pros- 



22 G MANLY CHARACTER. 

perity. They also constitute what may be 
called objective piety, or the outward ex- 
pression of an inward vital principle of de- 
votion to God. The prophet says : " Then 
they that feared the Lord spake often one to 
another ; and the Lord hearkened, and heard 
it : and a book of remembrance was written 
before him for them that feared the Lord, and 
that thought upon his name. And they shall 
be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day 
when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare 
them, as a man spare th his own son that 
serveth hiru." Mai. iii, 16, 17. 

As a Christian, it will become you to be 
mindful of all the institutions of the gospel, 
and all the appointments of the Church, made 
under the great charter of our salvation. 
Never profane the holy Sabbath, either by 
ordinary bodily or mental labour, seeking 
your own pleasure abroad, or by idleness and 
sloth at home. The Sabbath is a great relig- 
ious benefit, and should be improved with 
reference to our spiritual good and the spirit- 
ual good of others. Worn down and perplexed 
by worldly cares through the week, what a 
glorious privilege, and what a solemn duty, 
to spend the Sabbath in rest from worldly 
occupations and cares, and in recruiting the 
energies of the soul by holy converse, with 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 2'2, 

God and the communion of saints ! For the 
time, east off all worldly cares and studies, 
and give yourself to holy meditation, prayer, 
reading the Scriptures, and the hearing of the 
word. Such exercises will be found abun- 
dantly better fitted to restore your wasted 
energies, than going out of town in the cars 
or on a steamboat, than rambles over the 
fields, or spending the day in inglorious sloth 
at home. 

Meet all your appointments for social re- 
ligious intercourse with promptness and uni- 
formity. It is a shame to a member of the 
Church never, or very seldom, to be seen at 
the week-evening meetings of the Church — to 
be always absent from lecture, from the prayer- 
meeting, the class-meeting, the love-feast, or 
whatever regular or occasional services may 
be appointed by the Church of his choice. At- 
tendance upon all these means should be so 
uniform as to become a habit, and then it 
will be natural and easy. Moreover, the time 
to form the habit of orderly and uniform at- 
tendance upon the means of grace, is in youth, 
at the commencement of your course. Would 
you be a growing Christian — would you be 
an estimable, influential, useful member of 
the Church — would you not be a dead weight 
on the Church, and a reproach to the Christian 



228 MANLY CHARACTER. 

name — would you not peril your own salva- 
tion, and the salvation of others, you must be 
more than a Christian in name : you must be 
constant and uniform in your attendance upon 
all the ordinances of God — you must not 
neglect the public means of grace. 

Much will depend upon the decision and 
earnestness of spirit with which you attend to 
your public religious duties. Do not doze 
under a sermon, nor let your prayers freeze 
upon your lips. Be wide awake and deeply 
engaged when you are in the house of God. 
A religion that does not stir up and warm the 
soul, is of very little worth. We are exhorted 
to " turn away " from those who, " having the 
form of godliness, deny the power thereof." 
If this should be your character, both the 
Church and the world would loathe you, and 
God himself would loathe you ; for the " luke- 
warm w lie " will spew out of his mouth." En- 
ter the courts of the Lord's house with a joyful 
heart, and praise God with gladness. Feel 
that it would be to you a far greater honour 
than any this world can afford, to " be a door- 
keeper in the house of the Lord." What a 
relish had the Psalmist for the worship of 
God, when he could send out, from the very 
bottom of his heart, such sentiments as these : 
" My soul longeth, yea, even faintcth for the 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 229 

courts of the Lord. One thing have 1 desired 
of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I 
may dwell in the house of the Lord all the 
days of my life, to "behold the beauty of the 
Lord, and to inquire in his temple." Such a 
spirit as this will always exhibit itself in the 
manner in which the subject of it enters the 
sanctuary, and deports himself while there. 
A serious, earnest demeanour, always charac- 
terizes the true and accepted worshipper, when 
he takes his place in the solemn assembly. 
He feels that the eye of God is upon him, and 
that he is a sinner, and God is holy. He 
heeds the wise counsel of Solomon : " Keep 
thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, 
and be more ready to hear, than to give the 
sacrifice of fools : for they consider not that 
they do evil. Be not rash with thy mouth, 
and let not thy heart be hasty to utter any- 
thing before God : for God is in heaven, and 
thou upon earth : therefore let thy words be 
few." Eccl. v, 1, 2. 

Another condition of worthy membership in 
the Church, is prompt and liberal attention to 
her benevolent institutions. 

A worthy member of the Church will sym- 
pathize with her in her concern for the world, 
and her efforts for its illumination and salva- 
tion. In all her struggles in this behalf, and 



MANLY CHARACTER. 

in all her burdens and outlays, lie will take 
his part, considering that he is not introduced 
into the Church merely to enjoy her fostering 
care, but also to help fight her battles. I 
should hope, young men, to see you early 
engaged in the cause of missions, Sabbath 
schools, tract distribution, and Church exten- 
sion. There is a department for you — a post 
of duty suited to your capacity — in all these 
departments of labour. The missionary spirit 
— that is, a spirit of burning zeal to do good 
— should be early cultivated. That spirit will 
seek and find the appropriate sphere for you, 
and move you to action, and you will find 
yourselves happily and successfully labouring 
in a field " white unto the harvest." 

" Begin early to cherish a public spirit ; be- 
cause if you do not possess this disposition in 
the morning of life, you probably never will. 
This is a virtue that rarely springs up late in 
life. If it grow and flourish at all, it must 
be planted in youth, and be nourished by the 
warm sunshine and rain of the spring season 
of existence. He who cares only for himself 
in youth, will be a very niggard in man- 
hood, and a wretched miser in old age." — Dr. 
Hawes's Lectures to Young Men. 

You may be inclined to think it will be too 
much to undertake to do something for. all 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 231 

these various causes ; but this is a mistake 
suggested by the great adversary. The more 
you do, the more you can do. Dr. Clarke 
somewhere remarks, that the old adage, that 
we must not have too many irons in the fire, 
lest some of them should bum, is a great 
error. Put into the fire, says he, all the 
irons you have, with shovel, tongs, and poker 
besides : for the more irons you have in the 
fire, the more work you will bring out. The 
idea intended to be enforced is, that those 
who have but little on hand, will do but little ; 
while those who undertake much, will bring 
about larger results. The larger the amount 
of effort laid out, if the strength be not really 
overtasked, the more will power accumulate, 
and the more fruitful the results. The idle 
and the timid are feeble and inefficient. 

Finally, having now embraced all that I 
intended to say with reference to your con- 
duct in its more immediate relations to the 
Church, I have a word to say with reference 
to your intercourse with the world. 

It is not your intercourse with society, as a 
man or a citizen, of which I am about to 
speak — of this I have spoken already in an- 
other connexion — but your intercourse with 
men as a Christian, your religious character 
and bearing. A Christian man should be re- 



232 MAXLY CHARACTER. 

ligious always. Be not startled at this propo- 
sition. It is an axiom which contains its own 
evidence. It must be true, unless a Christian 
is sometimes licensed to lay aside his charac- 
ter, and deny his Saviour; and no one will 
assert this. The difficulties which, at first 
view, seem to surround the case, are removed 
by a slight explanation. A man is just as 
religious when he is engaged in his business 
as when he is at his prayers, provided he 
transacts his business upon Christian princi- 
ples, [f you engage in some lawful and useful 
occupation, and transact your business upon 
true Christian principles, your religion is a 
daily and a public affair. This mode of busi- 
ness intercourse with the world is not so com- 
mon to business men, that it will excite no 
attention. I fear it is a truth — I am sorry to 
Bay it — that it constitutes the exception, and 
not the rule. A strict adherence to the prin- 
ciples of the gospel in the ordinary affairs of 
life, will carry conviction to that portion of 
the business world with which you come into 
contact more deeply and effectually than loud 
professions, but partially or doubtfully sus- 
tained by your e very-day practice. 

A truly Christian bearing should be the 
study of every Christian man, and especially of 
every young man who professes Christianity. 



MORAL AXD RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 233 

Upon this point I need not go into particulars. 
A deep and constant impression that you are 
observed by others, and that your example is 
making an impression which will be perma- 
nently beneficial or injurious, will give your 
social life a truly Christian character. 

I shall now proceed with a more general 
view of the duties, influence, and responsi- 
bilities of young men, in a moral and religious 
point of view. 

Young men, in one form or another, are 
undergoing a process of preparation for use- 
fulness in active life : but it must not be 
supposed that they are to wait until this 
course of preparation is completed before they 
engage in active efforts to promote the in- 
terests of mankind. Their position has many 
advantages for a profitable outlay of influence 
and moral power in the midst of their prepa- 
rations for a position in society. There is not 
a college or school in the country in which a 
pious student may not be about his Master's 
business. There is not a manufactory, or a 
shop, or any other place where young men 
mingle together, in which there are not ways 
and means of doing good. Young men have 
more influence over their own class than any 
others can have. This influence should al- 
ways be laid out for good — the spiritual and 



234 MANLY CHARACTER. 

eternal good of the young, whose sympathies 
are with them, and whose characters may he 
moulded "by example. 

As to the position of young men in relation 
to usefulness, a few cases only need he referred 
to as illustrations. Witness the influence ex- 
erted upon the destinies of thousands hy a 
few young men in the University of Oxford 
during the last century. Their efforts to 
arouse the slumhering and relieve the wretch- 
ed, awakened an interest throughout the 
British isles, and constituted the early "begin- 
nings of the new form of Christianity called 
Methodism. A small company of young men 
in college set this hall in motion, and it 
is still rolling on with accumulated power. 
M'Cheyne, while a student in Edinhurgh, in 
company with some of his fellow-students, un- 
dertook the work of visiting, on the Lord's 
day, the most destitute and wretched portions 
of the city, and hy circulating tracts among 
the poor and neglected, praying with them, 
and giving them a word of exhortation and 
advice, as occasion required, was an instru- 
ment in the hand of God of leading many of 
them from darkness to light. (See his Life and 
Remains.) Hurd, in the academy and in col- 
lege, was a most efficient lahourer in hehalf 
of his fellow-students, and was an instrument 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 235 

in the hands of God of turning many of them 
from the error of their ways. (See the Wes- 
leyan Student, by Dr. Holdich.) 

In these instances, and many more which 
might be named, the very held of preparation 
was turned into a field of usefulness. Hurd 
died in college ; but before he departed, had 
already made his mark upon the world, and 
left behind him fruit which continues to 
abound to the glory of God. Who, of my 
young friends, would wish to die without leav- 
ing behind him evidence of his having lived, 
and lived to some good purpose '? How much 
better a short and useful life, than one that 
is long and without advantage to the world ! 
Young men, let me exhort you to secure some 
fruit of your piety and charity as early as 
possible : for you may not live to fill a larger 
and more public sphere in the Church ; and 
for your talent to do good while young, the 
Lord of the vineyard will hold you to a strict 
account. 

Experimental, practical, active Christianity, 
is the perfection of manhood. Contrast in 
your mind an active, useful, Christian young 
man, with the aspirant for fame or wealth, or 
with the votary of pleasure. Consider them 
as candidates for a future, endless state of 
being. One is living to a good purpose ; while 



2oG MANLY CHARACTER. 

the other lives for naught. One is pursuing a 
substantial good ; while the other is pursuing 
shadows. One is laying in store a good foun- 
dation against the time to come ; while the 
other is purchasing for himself infinite regret 
and eternal infamy. The name of one will be 
as ointment poured forth ; while that of the 
other will be a stench and an abhorrence 
when lie is gone to his account, and his hopes 
arc buried 

The aspirant for wealth gives himself no 
rest : he toils day and night ; he calculates 
and schemes ; it may be he accumulates a 
fortune. He is still restless and unhappy, 
lie seeks more and more, and yet is as far 
from the goal as ever. All seek his friend- 
ship, and do him reverence. He lives a short 
time, and rolls in wealth; but the time of 
reckoning finally comes. He dies, and leaves 
his wealth to others — perhaps for fools to 
squander. Here ends his earthly history ; but 
his eternal state, endless retribution, now 
begins ! 

The aspirant for fame courts the applause 
of men ; he worships no god but fashion ; he 
caters to the public taste ; he gathers around 
him a large circle of admirers ; he ascends 
the highest pinnacle of fame ; he makes a 
mighty effort to ascend still higher ; he hears 






MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 237 

one universal peal of applause ; he listens, 
tries to be happy, but wants a little more ; 
is not satisfied, swells with pride, and begins 
to think that he has not yet attained to all 
that his talents and services deserve of the 
world ; struggles desperately for a still more 
elevated position, or to save himself from 
losing a portion of his popularity which he 
sees in danger, and, all at once, feels the 
ground under his feet giving way ! He drops 
into the grave, and all his glory vanishes into 
thin air ! 

The mere man of pleasure indulges himself 
in every species of excess. He follows the 
cravings of his animal appetites, until they 
become rampant, and, like the horse-leech, 
cry, Give, give ; he uses, or rather abuses, his 
senses until they are worn out, and cease to 
minister to his pleasures ; he becomes an ex- 
cited, feverish, rotten mass of flesh and blood ; 
he has been instrumental in leading others 
into crime, and now the human wrecks which 
he sees strewed in his path behind him, haunt 
his imagination. Full of anguish of body, 
and tortures of conscience, he passes into the 
world of spirits to receive the reward of his 
doings. As an instance in illustration of this 
case, see the last hours of Thomas Paine, the 
famous infidel and libertine. Would any of 



238 MANLY CHARACTER. 

my young friends wish to live such a life, and 
die such a death? I anticipate the answer. 
You would much prefer a life of steady, uni- 
form rectitude and usefulness ; a life of self- 
denial and piety ; a life of devotion to the 
honour of God and the "best interests of man- 
kind ; peace of conscience while living, and 
the grateful rememhrance of the good when 
dead — even a life of poverty, and privation, 
and toil, and a death of glorious hope. 

u .Suppose, for instance, young men, there 
were two kinds of seeds, one of which you must, 
by some necessity of nature or compulsion, 
sow every spring, and the fruit of which you 
must, by the same necessity, live upon every 
winter — one kind yielding that which is bitter 
and nauseous, and inflicting severe pain ; the 
other that which is pleasant to the taste, 
and salubrious to the constitution — would you 
not be very careful which you selected and 
cast into your garden, knowing, as you would, 
what must be the inevitable result ? Why, 
this is your condition of existence and your 
employment. You are always sowing in youth 
what you must always reap in manhood." — 
James. 

Eemember, then, my young friends, that 
when you select your course of life, you take 
all the consequences which follow it.- " Be 






MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 2o9 

not deceived ; God is not mocked : for what- 
soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. 
For he that soweth to his flesh, shall of the 
flesh reap corruption ; but he that soweth to 
the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life ever- 
lasting/' Gal. vi, 7, 8. May your life be such, 
that your last hours may be peaceful and 
happy, and your memory blessed. 



240 MANLY CHARACTER. 



X.-TRUE MANHOOD THE WMT OF THE TIMES. 

" THE DRIVING IS LIKE THE DRIVING OF JEHU THE SON OF 

NIMSHI ; FOR HE DRIVETH FURIOUSLY." 2 KINGS IX, 20. 
" PERILOUS TIMES SHALL COME." 2 TIM. m, 1. 

Having drawn out, in some detail, the process 
of constructing a manly character, it will be 
in point next to inquire if there be not a spe- 
cial demand for such a character in our young 
men, arising from the exigences of the times. 
Manhood fully developed, and symmetri- 
cally formed, through the various stages of 
the world's history, has been the great con- 
servative element of society, and has been in 
high request. Some ages, however, have seem- 
ed to make a larger demand for this element 
than others ; and this age of ours is one which 
yields to none of its predecessors in its call 
for manliness of character — for men of the 
right stamp. The perils of the times are 
imminent, and the demand for a high grade 
of intelligence, and great strength of moral 
principle, never was stronger. New develop- 
ments of human genius and activity are con- 
stantly arising, and new dangers to the dearest 
interests of society are calling for vigilance. 
This is neither a stagnant nor a tame and 
quiet age. It is an age of activity, of enter- 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 24:1 

prise, of speculation, of adventure, of philoso- 
phizing — and of both real and pscudo reforms. 
The natural inquiry is, What do all these 
facts suggest with regard to the character- 
istics — physical, intellectual, and moral — of 
the actors just about to enter upon the stage ? 
We should at once infer that an ordinary, 
commonplace genius would be illy suited to 
such times. Sloth, inaction, and mental dwarf- 
ishness, will necessarily either be fairly dis- 
tanced, or will become a prey to the active 
poison which is scattered broad-cast over the 
world through the most mighty agencies. 
The following detailed facts present the basis 
of the argument in favour of the position that 
the age eminently demands vigorous and ma- 
ture manhood. 

< This is an age distinguished for its litera- 
ture, science, and philosophy. It is an age of 
great improvement, 

A sound Christian thinker says : " Let it 
be allowed that, in many tilings, the age is 
one of advancement. Thus much is notable, 
and beyond question. It would be unjust and 
unthankful, as well as untrue, not to allow 
this. I admit it ungrudgingly, not reluc- 
tantly or through constraint. Into much that 
is true the age has found its way, and in 
several provinces of knowledge, unreached by 
16 



242 MANLY CHARACTER. 

its predecessors, it lias made good its footing. 
Circle after circle has widened round it, and 
its discoveries are certainly neither shadows 
nor tinsel ; they are real and solid. Xo Chris- 
tian need fear to make this admission, nor 
think that by so doing he lowers the credit 
of the Scriptures as the true fountain-head of 
God-given truth, or casts dishonour upon him 
' in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom 
and knowledge.' 

" The mental philosophy of the age is, in 
some respects, of a truer kind than hereto- 
fore, though still cloudy and unsatisfying — 
nay, often stumbling into scepticism, panthe- 
ism, atheism. The science of the age is pro- 
digiously in advance of former ages. Its 
literature is wider in its range, and purer in 
its aim. Its arts are on a higher and more 
perfect scale. Its astronomy has searched the 
heavens far more extensively and profoundly. 
It — the age, we mean — has brought to light 
law after law in the system of the universe. 
It speeds over the earth with a rapidity once 
unknown. It transmits intelligence not only 
more swiftly than sound, but more swiftly 
than the light. It is restoring fertility to 
the soil. It can shut out pain from the body, 
in circumstances which, but a few years ago, 
would have racked or torn every nerve. These 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 243 

tilings, and sucli as these, the age has dis- 
covered and done ; and, because of these 
things, we may admit most freely that there 
has been, in some tilings, wondrous progress — 
progress which might be turned to the best 
account — progress for which praise is due to 
God." — Man, Ids Religion and Ids World. By 
Bev. Horatius Bonar. 

I might draw out, to a much greater ex- 
tent, the elements and evidences of the prog- 
ress of the age, but the above outline will be 
quite sufficient for my purpose. What sen- 
sible young man will, for a moment, suppose 
that a low grade of qualifications for a position 
in society at such a period as this, will answer 
his purpose ? Could he expect, in a profession, 
or in any department of business, to maintain 
a respectable position against such competition 
as he would necessarily meet in an active, in- 
telligent community, without the grade of 
qualifications which would compare favourably 
with that of his compeers ? I tell you, young 
men, that the man that is a man, in these days 
of ours, is a man full grown. No puerile de- 
monstrations will answer your purpose. You 
will have to struggle with vast forces, and 
will need the nerve of a giant. Unless you 
are qualified to assume an influential position 
in highly intelligent society, you will neces- 



244 MANLY CHARACTER. 

sarily fall under the embarrassments of one 
which, almost of necessity, will make you either 
a victim or a tool of superior strength and in- 
fluence. Unless you have already consented, 
in a sense, to be unmanned, you must be a 
man through and through — a man in stature 
and compass. You, surely, have not made up 
your mind to be a pigmy among giants, nor 
a dwarf among full-grown men. You are not 
preparing for a residence in the land of Lil- 
liput, but a country of hale, strong, tall men, 
— to be one of a community in which it is dis- 
graceful, even to children, to be altogether 
ignorant of the history of the world, and of 
the improvements of the age. You cannot, 
you dare not, surely you will not, venture to 
mingle with the strife of the world at such a 
period, without due preparation. Let us now 
examine "the signs of the times," and see 
what they suggest. 

Look at the worldly spirit which every- 
where prevails — the thirst for wealth, the love 
of money, the universal scramble for gold; 
the extravagance in outlay, the luxury, the 
sensuality, which show themselves in society; 
the wickedness in high places, the ambition 
for office and place, the false-heartedness and 
chicanery of politicians, and the easy virtue of 
tlie multitude, who can be wheedled, out of 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 245 

their principles, or be cajoled into any courso 
which, by sophistry, can be made to give the 
vaguest promise of utility. What is the pub- 
lic conscience '? Where is the heart of the 
nation ? These are fearful queries. 

We have a sufficient number and variety 
of crimes of home-growth to fill the good with 
alarm ; but, in addition to all these, we are 
daily importing the crimes of the Old World, 
just as we arc importing, from the same 
source, poverty and ignorance. When the 
records of emigration show that we arc receiv- 
ing emigrants, at the port of New-York alone, 
at the rate of one thousand per diem, and many 
of them — thank God, not all — from the moral 
sinks of the Old World, it is no marvel that 
crime should increase to a fearful extent. 
" The enemy is coming in like a flood ;" what 
but " the Spirit of the Lord " can " lift up a 
standard against him ? " 

Again, just glance at the gross impositions 
which are palmed off upon the ignorant and 
credulous — the bold impostures, and impudent 
humbugs, which lead astray and bewilder thou- 
sands to their utter undoing. Such are the 
trickery of quacks, the deceptions of " science, 
falsely so called," and the mock revelations 
of base impostors. The tricks of these several 
trades are always marvellous, and sometimes 



246 MANLY CHARACTER. 

ingenious, but they are none the less sheer 
impositions and most cruel frauds. It is a 
melancholy spectacle — one which is enough to 
make a Christian blush, and a philosopher 
mad — to see the inroads which these base im- 
positions are making upon social and domestic 
circles. Numbers of honest, and, in some 
respects, sensible people, can be persuaded to 
believe that a silly girl can be put to sleep, 
and, with the utmost ease, be invested with 
ubiquity — pass over all the barriers of nature, 
and survey all her hidden recesses — revealing 
with unerring certainty the secrets of both the 
material and spiritual worlds. In another case 
" spirits " are evoked from the unseen world, to 
give foolish answers to foolish questions, and 
that merely to put a few pennies into the 
pocket of a designing and wdcked pythoness. 
That all this goes down with a multitude of 
people, and, of course, poisons their minds — 
weakening their faith, and injuring their vir- 
tue — is a most melancholy fact, and one to be 
w r ell considered. 

The present is an age of radicalism. By 
radicalism, I mean a war waged against the 
ancient foundations of faith, of ethics, and of 
government Extreme reforms are urged, and 
a vast amount of eloquence, and of a certain 
sort of learning, is put into requisition to 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 247 

bring them about. In theology men are no 
longer content to credit the simple language 
of the Bible as it stands, but a recondite philos- 
ophy must be invoked to come to the aid of 
the inspired writings, before we are allowed 
to receive their teachings. The doctrine of 
the Divine existence is admitted, but in a form 
which turns God into everything, and every- 
thing into God. Pantheism or transcendent- 
alism is brought in to take the place of the 
teachings of Moses and the prophets, of Christ 
and the apostles. Inspiration is admitted ; 
but in such sort as that Voltaire and Rousseau, 
Herbert and Bolingbroke, are to be considered 
instances of its illuminations, and, as to a 
knowledge of the laws of human £>rogress, are 
made to occupy a position vastly in advance 
of Peter and Paul. 

In morals, that is right which ministers most 
to the gratification of the senses, or the pride 
and selfishness of the human heart. The old 
straight-jackets, which prohibit sinful amuse- 
ments, and enforce Sabbaths, church-going, 
and straight-forward old-fashioned religion, 
must be torn asunder, and consigned to an- 
nihilation. 

In political economy, unbridled liberty is the 
sum of perfection, and all conservatism is 
scouted as a relic of a by-gone age. The re- 



24 S MANLY CHARACTER. 

straints of law arc instances of violence to hu- 
man nature, and are opposed to " the progress 
of the race." 

The social system is all wrong — one man 
has as much right to possess a farm as an- 
other. Landlord and tenant, master and ser- 
vant, principal and agent, donor and recipient, 
ruler and ruled, are all antiquated notions, 
suited to the barbarous ages. Universal liberty 
and absolute equality are the natural condi- 
tions of society, and must be claimed, on the 
one hand, and conceded on the other, before 
the world will have reached its destiny. 

Woman must be invested with the rights 
with which nature has endowed her — she must 
be admitted to the learned professions, to a 
part in the government, to enter the camp 
with sword and firelock, to command vessels, 
to mount the stump, and attend the elections, 
and do whatever else she may take in her 
head, without the good leave of the sot elisant 
lords of the creation. As to that old law of 
St. Paul, that makes " the man the head of 
the woman, 7 ' it is now quite out of date. Cer- 
tainly Paul did not consider that such a law 
could not bind woman, as she had no hand in 
making it ; those were dark days, those days 
of Paul. 

In carrying on these pseudo reforms a thou- 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF T1IE TIMES. 249 

sand voices arc lifted up — the press groans 
most hideously — orators, high and low 7 , learned 
and ignorant, male and female, white, black, 
and copper colour, mount the rostra, and 
almost make the strong foundations of the 
earth tremble with their vociferations. Nor 
are our modern philanthropists content to 
wait for the gradual working of their princi- 
ples, but are in hot haste to carry out " the 
reforms which the advanced civilization of the 
nineteenth century imperatively demands." 
They move heaven and earth for the accom- 
plishment of their favourite projects. The 
philosophy of Germany and France is trans- 
lated into English, and preached in a thousand 
halls, by those who have not taken the time, 
or have not the sense, to understand its prac- 
tical tendency. Mere neophytes all at once 
become wiser than Solomon, and shed such a 
blaze of light upon the world, that the strong- 
est visual organs are blinded with excess of 
brightness. Those who do not take in the in- 
spiration arc plainly told that they are " be- 
hind the age ;" Eip Van Winkle like, have 
been asleep for a long time, and now that they 
have been aroused to consciousness, they ex- 
pect to find the world just as it was when they 
forgot themselves. The satire makes the ini- 
tiated smile, while the thoughtful are grieved 



250 MANLY CHARACTER. 

to see sober views and common sense turned 
out of doors without judge or jury. 

The present age is characterized by wonder- 
ful activity. Society is in motion. Everything 
is astir. The most inert masses are galvanized 
into life. Men rush here and there — they 
almost fly upon the wings of the wind. The 
afflatus by which they are impelled from one 
extreme point to another, seems inexhausti- 
ble. Steam — that wonder-working power — 
has made the antipodes near neighbours. 
That modern miracle — the electric telegraph — 
enables our distant commercial cities to hold 
communication together, and to keep up the 
equilibrium of commerce. Shortly one man 
upon the shore of the Atlantic, and another 
upon that of the Pacific, will be able to ex- 
change morning and evening salutations ; the 
evening news of San Francisco will be pub- 
lished in the morning papers of New- York and 
Boston ! Men are constantly becoming more 
restless and enterprising — everybody travels 
— all have business abroad. People in the 
country, who once transacted their business 
with the country shop-keeper, now go to the 
cities, and sell the produce of their labour and 
purchase their wares — performing the trip in 
a day, and at the expense of a few shillings, 
which a few years since would have required 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 251 

a week or two, and have cost them as many 
dollars as it now costs them cents. We are 
becoming a migratory nation ; no natural 
"barriers, difficulties, or dangers, prevent our 
pushing off in every direction. Hazard is no 
obstacle to enterprise, and hope illumes the 
most gloomy prospect. 

This vast stir and commotion of the ele- 
ments, by some, is taken for progress. It is 
certainly a sign of life. Whether it be a 
favourable or unfavourable symptom depends 
entirely upon the direction which things take. 
Without guidance the more rapid the move- 
ment the more imminent the peril. Without 
wise direction excitement becomes morbid, 
activity is hazardous, perhaps ruinous; move- 
ment may be retrogressive. How shall the 
young escape — how shall any of us escape — 
the whirlpool of mad excitement and extrava- 
gant speculation which characterize these 
times and this country? The spirit is con- *^L 
tagious, and it is not the spirit of benevo- ^ 
lence, of public amelioration, of legitimate 
reforms, but of selfishness — a lust for gold 
and glory. 

The vast influx of foreigners introduces 
new and somewhat discordant elements into 
our American society. Unless these are trans- 
formed, by the action of some mighty agency, 



252 MANLY CHARACTER. 

they will clog the wheels of State, and inter- 
rupt the harmony and uniformity of their 
movements. The foreigners who come among 
us to remain, do not always become Ameri- 
canized. A portion of them come with their 
own apparatus of education, with their re- 
ligion and their philosophy, all formed under 
despotic governments, and partaking of the 
ultraism, either of implicit obedience to au- 
thority, or of its reaction — unbridled license 
— scepticism or socialism. They come here 
not to be moulded by the genial influences of 
our free institutions, but to act as propagan- 
dists of either a heartless, godless rationalism, 
or of a semi-heathen superstition. The Ger- 
man and French schools are organized here, 
and are propagating their infidel philosophy 
and their socialism ; and the Jesuits are here, 
with their profound knowledge of human na- 
ture, and their arts of double-dealing and de- 
ception. Both have learning and genius, and 
are not to be put down by a puff of breath. 
" By good words and fair speeches they de- 
ceive the hearts of the simple." They are 
able to make the worse appear the better rea- 
son, and not unfrequently do they " beguile 
unstable souls." 

The boldness with which the grand heresies 
in question are propounded and advocated, is 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 253 

a remarkable fact. Their abettors seem to 
rely upon the mere credulity — or rather, to 
use a homely word, the gullibility — of meu, 
and to feel no sort of responsibility for tho 
forthcoming of reasons, good and strong, found- 
ed upon commonly acknowledged principles 
and facts. Their theories of philosophy, of 
tradition, or authority, as the case may be, 
are simply announced as axioms, and the faith 
of mankind challenged with the utmost confi- 
dence. All this seems to result from an as- 
sumption of a state of mind capable of this 
sort of treatment. It would certainly seem 
that so much confidence or presumption of suc- 
cess, must rest upon facts, indicating the stato 
of the general mind of the country ; for the 
men who are engaged in the work of change 
or disorganization, or whatever it be called, 
are not utterly blind — they at least think 
they see their way clear before them. If they 
were convinced that the opinions and faith of 
men could not be moulded by such means, 
they would not employ them. 

To refer to one illustration of what we are 
seeking to present. An indifferent spectator 
would read, in Brownson's Quarterly, the as- 
sertion that Protestants are not to be reasoned 
with, but reproved — that they are not to be as- 
sailed by arguments, but by authority — and 



254 MANLY CHARACTER. 

laugh at the whole thing. He would quietly 
and pleasantly ask, how a man of common 
sense can persuade himself that anybody in 
this country — in the midst of this glorious 
nineteenth century — can he persuaded to give 
up his reason, and take upon trust the ipse 
dixit of another, who brings with him no cre- 
dentials of a divine commission, and seems to 
have no higher claims to infallibility than 
himself? This would all seem legitimate, 
and the vagaries of an ardent — not to say 
fanatical — convert to Popery, would be dis- 
missed as unworthy of serious thought. Others, 
who might be disposed to look a little more 
carefully into the matter, would be likely to 
inquire, How came this naturally strong but 
poorly-balanced mind in its present strange 
position ? What sustains it in that position ? 
Are there not others exposed to the same 
agencies and influences which have so effec- 
tually wrought upon him, and who would be 
swamped by his dogmatic teachings, and 
would seem to see something of divine authori- 
ty in the very extravagance, presumption, and 
impudence of his assumptions ? These queries 
followed out, and compared with the facts of 
history and observation, would lead to an im- 
pression that there is something to be looked 
after in this altered tone — this new phase in 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 255 

Roman Catholic tactics. It would at least lead 
to the question : How far the susceptibilities 
of the masses encourage the hopes of dogmati- 
cal teachers ? how far the public mind can be 
practised upon and misled by assumptions 
and a bold front? The very fact of such 
efforts, in such quarters, at such a period of 
the world, is suggestive. They are not to 
be isolated from the present aspects of the 
world, and the signs of the times. 

There is, doubtless, a vigorous effort now 
being put forth for the recovery of the well- 
nigh ruined despotisms of the Old World. A 
reaction in their favour is going on in Europe. 
As Americans, we now despise it. At the next 
stage of its progress we may begin to sympa- 
thize with it, at least in some of its forms. 
That this state of things is anticipated by the 
minions of " His Holiness the Pope," is suf- 
ficiently evident. In the first place they boldly 
advocate the reactionary movements of the 
governments of the Continent of Europe. Then 
they justify religious persecution under those 
governments, upon grounds which would take 
from us all civil and religious liberty, if 
Roman Catholics were in the majority, or if 
they had in their hands the powers of the 
government. We are also repeatedly told, by 
their high ecclesiastical functionaries, and in 



256 MANLY CHARACTER. 

their publications, that, being certainly in the 
wrong, Protestants have no right to freedom 
of thought, of speech, and of action, especially 
in matters of religion. That is, we have no 
conscience of our own, for whose safekeeping 
we are, personally and directly, responsible 
to God. That Protestants have no right to 
live, to think, and act, but by the Pope's good 
leave. 

And how is all this received ? What is 
said about it ? A few political editors demur, 
and the rest are mum, while nearly all of 
them seem to have a sacred horror of that 
" religious and sectarian bigotry " which would 
lay the axe at once at the root of the deadly 
Upas. Extreme sensitiveness is manifested 
by politicians in all questions in which the 
dogmas of Piomc are concerned. Votes are 
sought to the prejudice of the great principles 
of liberty and the rights of conscience, and he 
who remonstrates is set down as a narrow- 
minded sectarian. 

Now what does all this indicate? What 
lessons should be drawn from facts so startling 
and instructive ? By some we shall be met 
with a bundle of philosophy — the doctrines of 
human jwogress, and the splendid theories of 
the march and final triumph of free principles. 
All vory fair, but opposed to some stubborn 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 257 

facts. What has become of liberty on the 
Continent of Europe ? A few years ago we 
were told, by these political theorizers, that, 
at the next upturning in Europe, absolutism 
would utter its last expiring groan — the sov- 
ereigns would leave their thrones, and become 
one with the common mass of the people, or 
lose their heads. "When the Pope made some 
concessions to freedom, it was said he could 
never take them back, for the march of liberal 
principles is onward. The French and the 
Bom an republics would be permanent, for 
there is no such thing as an emancipated people 
going bach to slavery. All this was glorious, 
and we tried to believe it ; we hoped it was 
the true theory of human progress. But what 
is the condition of things now in those coun- 
tries where hopeful republics were set up ? In 
Rome, the most execrable of all tyrannies, is ap- 
parently secure upon its seat — the Inquisition 
is in full blast, and the genius of liberty is 
just gasping for breath ! France is prostrate 
before the spirit of despotism ! A grand con- 
federation of the great powers of continental 
Europe, to crush the rising hopes of the world 
for universal liberty, civil and religious, is in 
a fair way to be consummated ! 

It is no doubt a fact that liberal principles 
have been making vast advances in the world 
17 



258 MANLY CHARACTER. 

within the last fifty years. In the meantime 
despots have not "been idle, and they have 
somehow so managed as to send forward pow- 
der and bullets a little faster than liberty has 
been able to travel. The nations of the Old 
World have been in motion ; they have moved 
forward and backward, and laterally ; but 
whether, in a knowledge of the theory of 
government, they are one hair's breadth in 
advance of what they were fifty years ago, is, 
to say the least, a debatable question. Let 
us, then, not be met with theories which have 
been demonstrated false by history, in oppo- 
sition to our position, that there are strong 
indications in the state of the public mind and 
heart that great obstacles are to be overcome 
before we see the millennium of civil and re- 
ligious emancipation. All is not right just 
yet. There are indications that despotism is 
preparing to fight over her old battles with 
liberal institutions. When her chains will 
finally be broken God only knows ; and if we 
of the " Model Kepublic" come out of the fire, 
into which we are likely to be cast, without 
being singed, it will be, not so much because 
of any inherent power there is in the idea of 
liberty, or because " mind is progressing," as 
because God shall have been with us, inspiring 
us with vigilance, and filling us with the wis- 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 259 

Join which cometli from above. " Perilous 
times" are upon us, and redeeming influences 
absolutely demanded. 

It will be seen that the field of observation 
I now survey is quite general — I do not con- 
fine myself to any section or to any class of 
the community. All classes are more or less 
interested in the state of opinion, of heart, and 
of morals, which, in various ways, is unmis- 
takably indicated. We are all interested in 
the state of the public mind, as we are all 
more or less affected by it, and as we have a 
fellow-feeling with our brethren and fellow- 
citizens. Did we only regard our own indi- 
vidual interests, we should still feel a concern 
for the state of the public mind, for the reason 
that the moral atmosphere of the community 
at large very much influences individuals. 
Our Saviour recognises this fact, when he says 
that "because iniquity shall abound, the love 
of many shall wax cold." Abounding iniquity 
naturally operates to cool the ardour of indi- 
vidual Christians ; and consequently their 
safety and progress are materially affected by 
the condition of things outside. An individual 
member of the Church, of course, will cherish 
a godly jealousy of the public faith and 
morals. 

I take my gauge from the public prints, — 



200 MANLY CHARACTER. 

especially the newspapers, — public lectures, 
associations for purposes of reform, and a thou- 
sand other sources, which are open to the view 
of the critical observer. From these sources 
I derive the facts from which I make my in- 
ductions. Through them let us now look at 
the popular theory of progress, and see upon 
what it is based. 

Progress, as it is understood and taught by 
the blustering reformers of this age, implies 
a recuperative energy in human nature — the 
ability of society to remedy its own wrongs. 
Hence the modern prophets predict that all 
social evils will soon be cured, and man — uni- 
versal man — will be enlightened, free, and 
happy, because the human mind is upward and 
onward in its aspirations and efforts. The 
world is going on — this is the age of progress 
— hence old abuses and errors will soon be 
done away, and man will attain the bliss of a 
perfect social condition. This is destiny — 
everything indicates that we are hastening on 
to this glorious consummation. The doctrine, 
and the fact, of progress are made the plea 
for the introduction of all sorts of reforms. 
This is an age of progress — therefore this, that, 
and the other, must be done. The advanced 
position of society requires that the old order 
of things, both in Church and State, should 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 261 

be done away. Matters were well enough 
arranged for our fathers — poor souls, they 
knew no better ! — but this is an age of im- 
provement, and things must be changed. Just 
as some of the citizens of our good city of 
Gotham reason for about three months every 
year. On the first of February, and thence- 
forward to the first of May, they say within 
themselves : " The day for ' moving' is coming, 
and I must go ' a house-hunting.' " So it goes 
with multitudes ; they remove from one house 
to another, no better — perhaps not so good — 
no cheaper, maybe not quite so cheap: but 
they have contracted a hatred of the ugly 
visage of the old landlord — or the boy he 
sends around on quarter-day — and hence they 
pull up stakes, and take new quarters, which 
are to be abandoned in the same way, and for 
the same reason, twelve months hence. The 
first of May is " moving-day;" therefore these 
people must remove. This is an age of im- 
provement, say our modern progressives; there- 
fore we must demolish old fabrics, and build 
new ones, which will better suit the taste of 
the age. 

After all, what is the boasted progress of 
this age ? Among the recent publications, 
I have before me a sensible little book, by 
the celebrated Scotch writer, Bonar, entitled, 



202 MANLY CHARACTER. 

" Man, his Eeligion and his World." In a 
chapter on " the theory of progress," the au- 
thor gives us some observations which are 
worthy of consideration. 

As to those who make such an outcry in 
relation to the progress of the age, he asks : 
"Have they calculated the loss as well as 
the gain, the minus as well as the plus, and is 
it on the ascertained difference that they rest 
their congratulations ?" And then proceeds : 
" If so, let them boast : it is well. If not, 
then their estimate is so wholly one-sided that 
no credit cau be given to it even by them- 
selves. 

"It is a literary age — it is an age of sci- 
ence — it is an age of far-ranging inquiry — it 
is an age of action ; many run to and fro, and 
knowledge is increased. But still it may not 
be an age of progress. The amount of knowl- 
edge gained may be nothing to the amount 
lost ; or that which is gained may be so per- 
verted or ill-regulated, as to injure instead of 
profiting. 

" We hear much of the knowledge of the 
age. Well ; but has not one of its own poets 
(Tennyson) said, ' Knowledge comes, but wis- 
dom lingers?' Yes, knowledge comes, but 
wisdom lingers ! Knowledge comes, but good- 
?iess lingers. Knowledge comes, but the world 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 263 

is as far as ever from peace and righteousness. 
Its wounds are not healed ; its tears do not 
cease to flow. Its crimes are not fewer ; its 
morals are not purer ; its diseases are as 
many and as fatal. Its nations are not more 
prosperous ; its kingdoms not more stable ; 
its rulers are not more magnanimous ; its 
homes are not happier ; its ties of kindred or 
affection are not more blessed or lasting. The 
thorn still springs, and the brier spreads ; 
famine scorches its plains, and the pestilence 
envenoms the air ; the curse still blights cre- 
ation, and the wilderness has not yet rejoiced 
or blossomed. Yet man is doing his utmost 
to set right the world, and God is allowing 
him to put forth all his efforts more vigorously 
and more simultaneously than ever, in these 
last days. 

" There is a secret consciousness of the evil 
of the times, even among those who have not 
the fear of God before their eyes. They see 
but the surface, indeed ; and yet that surface 
is not quite so calm and bright as they could 
desire, nor are the effects of the supposed 
progress quite so satisfactory as they expected 
they would be. They have their misgivings, 
though they cheer themselves with the thought 
that the mind of man will ere long be able to 
master all difficulties, and rectify all the still 



264 MANLY CHARACTER. 

remaining disorders of the world. Accord- 
ingly, they set themselves in their own way 
to help forward the regeneration of the world 
and the correction of its evils. 

" Among these there are various classes, or 
subdivisions. There is, for example, the edu- 
cational class. It labours hard to raise the level 
of society by the mere impartation of intel- 
lectual knowledge — ' useful knowledge/ ' sci- 
entific knowledge/ ' entertaining knowledge/ 
w political knowledge / in short, knowledge of 
any kind, save that of the Bible, and of the 
God of the Bible. There is the novelistic class ; 
a very large one it is, and possessed of far 
greater influence over the community than is 
generally credited. It has set itself to ele- 
vate the race by exciting what are conceived 
to be the purer feelings of our nature. Of 
one school, the standard of perfection is ro- 
mantic tenderness ; of another, worldly hon- 
our; of another, bare rectitude of character, 
without reference to such a being as God, or 
such a thing as his law ; of another, it is good- 
nature and Christmas festivity ; while others 
seem to have no real centre of elevation in 
view — only they hope, by stimulating some of 
our finer feelings into growth, to choke or 
weaken our grosser and more hateful. There 
is the poetical class. They think, by the in- 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 265 

culcation of high thoughts and nohle images, 
to lift up the world to its proper level. With 
one school, it is the worship of nature ; with 
another, it is the love of the heautiful ; with 
another, it is chivalry ; with another, it is the 
reenthronenient of ' the gods of Greece ;' with 
another, sentimental musings. These, and 
such as these, are the devices by which they 
hope to put evil to flight, and bring back the 
age of gold ! There is the satirical class. 
Their plan for meliorating the world is ridi- 
cule. Folly, vice, misrule, are to be carica- 
tured in order to be eradicated ! Ply men 
with enough of ridicule ; just show them how 
ridiculous they are, or can be made ; raise the 
laugh or the sneer against them ; exhibit them 
in all the exaggerated attitudes that the 
genius of grimace can invent, and all will be 
well ! There is ike jihilosojihic class — large and 
powerful, composed of men who are no triflers 
certainly, but who are sadly without aim or 
anchorage. Give them but ' earnestness/ and 
on that fulcrum they will heave up a fallen 
world into its true height of excellence ! 
Give them but earnestness, and then extrava- 
gance, mysticism, mythism, pantheism, so far 
from being condemned as ruinous, are wel- 
comed as so many forces operating at different 
points for the anticipated elevation. Give 



266 MAXLY CHARACTER. 

thein earnestness, and they will do without 
revelation : or give them ' universal intui- 
tion/ and they, setting it up as the judge of 
inspiration, will make man his own regener- 
ator by making him the fountain-head of truth. 
There is the political class. They have their 
many cures for the evils of society, and are 
quite sure that, by better government, a wider 
franchise, freer trade, the abolition of ranks, 
the division of property, they will bring all 
into order and peace ; as if these could touch 
the seat of the disease, or minister to the real 
wants of a helpless and heart-broken world." 

Our author proceeds to other phases of the 
age. He says : — 

" Along with progress the age boasts of its 
liberality; identifying liberality and liberal- 
ism. Let us see how far it can make its 
boasting good. True liberality is a blessed 
thing, for it is but another name for the love 
that ' beareth all things/ that ' thinketh no 
evil/ that ' rejoiceth not in iniquity, but re- 
joice th in the truth/ With this, however, the 
liberality of the age has nothing in common. 
Its essence is, indifference to sin and error. 
Its object is, to smooth down the distinctions 
between good and evil ; between holiness and 
sin ; between the Church and the world ; be- 
tween Protestantism and Popery ; between the 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WASTE OF THE TIMES. 267 

belief of God's word and infidelity or atheism. 
All its sayings and doings in government, in 
the legislature, in society, in corporations or 
private, intercourse, are based upon the axiom 
that there is no real difference between these 
things, or, at least, that if there be, it is not 
discoverable by man ; so that man is not only 
not responsible for acting upon it, but that it 
would be intolerance and presumption in him 
to do so. Kings are therefore to rule as if 
there were no such distinction, forgetting by 
whom they reign. Judges are to know no 
such distinction, forgetting that they are to 
j udge ' in the fear of the Lord.' Society is to 
be constructed without reference to any such 
distinction ; as if the Bible were not the basis 
of all society ; as if the Book which God has 
written were unsuitable for the regulation of 
the world which he created. But is not this 
calling good evil, and evil good — putting dark- 
ness for light, and light for darkness — putting 
bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter ?" 

If I am not blind to the true indications 
of the public morals, iniquity, in its various 
forms, is becoming fearfully prevalent and 
impudent. Just look at the snares which are 
set for the feet of our youth, and the fatal 
success which follows them. 

Passing over — as too loathsome and indeli- 



268 MANLY CHARACTER. 

cate for description — the dens of vice which 
are situated behind the screen, secreted from 
the public eye, I will invite attention to the 
machinery which is constantly before our eyes, 
employed in manufacturing victims for these 
abominable retreats. 

The first of this class which I will notice 
is the liquor-selling establishments. These 
are scattered over the country everywhere — 
but are especially abundant and active in our 
cities. It is not the low groggeries which are 
the most dangerous to the unsuspecting, but 
it is the splendid saloons, with painted win- 
dows and elegant furniture. Here the gins 
are set for the feet of the unsuspecting, con- 
cealed, at least in a measure, from the view. 
Here the way to poverty, disease, and death — 
ay, and the way to hell! — is strewed with 
flowers, and ornamented with all that is pleas- 
ing in the refinements of art and the inspira- 
tion of music. Activity, gayety, and mirth 
are here. Old friendships are strengthened 
and new ones formed, and wit and beauty are 
laid under contribution to gild the scene. 
Here it is that the taste is contracted, and 
the associations formed, which lead to con- 
firmed habits of intemperance, and prepare 
the candidates for the honours of drunkenness, 
to graduate downward, to the filthy holes, 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OE THE TIMES. 269 

where some one, in the shape of a man — or a 
woman — deals out death and perdition, at a 
penny a drink ! The schools of intemperance 
reverse the ordinary course of things. They 
graduate their pupils upon the descending 
scale ; they begin high, and end low. The 
first class are composed of fine gentlemen — at 
least decent and respectable citizens — perhaps 
of the young men of our best families. They 
begin with champagne, and proceed through 
the various classes of wines, brandy, Holland 
gin, old Jamaica, down to Irish and American 
whisky, applejack, old hard cider, Albany ale, 
and strong beer. They begin with mirth and 
gayety, and descend to headache and heart- 
ache. They commence with a clear under- 
standing, strong nerves, and a steady step, 
and go down to delirium tremens. They start 
with a seat upon a splendid sofa, and hasten 
on to the gutter. They commence with an 
entrance upon the devil's ground, under the 
strongest protestations that they will never 
swerve a hair's breadth from the line of pro- 
priety, and with a tolerable stock of consci- 
entiousness, but end in a drunkard's grave, 
and a drunkard's hell. 

Turn your attention from the groggeries to 
the theatres. These institutions are made at- 
tractive to the eye, the ear, and the depraved 



270 MANLY CHARACTER. 

heart. Their professed object is to amuse and 
instruct; but the real one is to cater to the 
depraved taste of the vicious, the idle, and the 
restless. The morality of the stage has al- 
ways been more than doubtful ; at present it 
is a fixed fact, that its entire machinery 
and appendages are sadly destructive of good 
morals. The moral deformity of these schools 
of vice is indeed covered over with beautiful 
drapery. The unwary are interested and 
charmed, amused and tickled, that they may 
receive a stab which will prostrate them for- 
ever. They are fattened and pampered against 
the day of slaughter, when they are to be laid 
upon the altar of some filthy divinity. 

What parent would be willing to subject 
his children to such influences as those which 
surround the stage ? Who can observe the 
immense amount of capital invested in thea- 
tres in our cities, and the vast patronage ex- 
tended to them, without serious concern for 
the rising generation ? Who would attend 
theatrical exhibitions for the purpose of im- 
proving his understanding or heart ? The 
very idea is absurd. Did any one ever leave 
a play with stronger convictions of duty, a 
higher sense of moral obligation, a diminution 
of his evil propensities, or more power over 
the evils of his nature than before he witnessed 



TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 271 

the scene ? Moreover, who ever improved his 
fortune by theatre-going? These questions 
can only be answered in one way. I am 
strongly tempted to continue my observations 
much farther, but must here desist. My object 
is a word of caution to the heedless youth who 
may be inclined to put himself in the way of 
danger — perhaps certain ruin. To such I 
would address the words of Solomon : " Enter 
not into the path of the wicked, and go not in 
the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by 
it, turn from it, and pass away. For they 
sleep not, except they have done mischief; 
and their sleep is taken away, unless they 
cause some to fall. For they eat the bread 
of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence. 
But the path of the just is as the shining 
light, that shineth more and more unto the 
perfect day. The way of the wicked is as dark- 
ness ; they know not at what they stumble." 

I shall close this lecture with a brief allu- 
sion to a subject upon which a volume might 
be written. Perhaps the leading fact which 
will give character to this age, upon the re- 
cords of future history, is the discovery of 
vast mines of gold on the Pacific coast. Al- 
ready this event is opening a multitude of 
new avenues to wealth, and affecting the com- 
merce of the world. Not pretending to doubt 



272 MANLY CHARACTER. 

but that this wonderful discovery is under the 
guidance of Divine Providence, and will be 
overruled for great and good purposes, still it 
brings with it emergencies and dangers which 
can but deeply impress thoughtful minds. 
I introduce this subject not merely for the 
benefit of those young men who will float off 
westward with the tide of adventurers to seek 
their fortune, but for more general purposes. 
This new and vast source of wealth will nec- 
essarily be attended with various and serious 
evils to the community generally, but especially 
to our young men. Wealth acquired rapidly, 
without the ordinary process of preparation 
for it, has a tendency to impress the mind 
and heart with false views of the world and 
of the value and right use of money. It leads 
to excessive expenditures, luxury, pride, the 
love of money, hardness of heart, undue re- 
gard to self, and the extinguishment of the 
sympathies of the soul for the poor and the 
wretched. Eiches, under any circumstances, 
have a tendency to sensualize the soul ; that 
is, to make it insensible to all other interests 
but those of this world. Moral considerations 
are lost sight of, when wealth becomes the 
paramount object. There is a natural ten- 
dency in riches to take possession of the heart ; 
but there is especial danger of this when they 



1 



TREE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 273 

are suddenly acquired. The history of the 
world affords ample illustrations of the fact, 
that the slow process of acquiring wealth by 
the cultivation of the soil, is attended with 
infinitely less hazard than the sudden accumu- 
lation of a fortune by commercial enterprises. 
The vast influx of wealth, through some sud- 
denly developed channel, has always been 
attended by luxury, effeminacy, and the whole 
family of vices. The morals of the youth 
have always suffered from this cause, and the 
result in some cases has been the ruin of the 
State. 

The propensity to overreaching, swindling, 
and oppressing the poor — to take all possible 
advantages of men's necessities — is another 
fruit of wealth suddenly acquired. Upon these 
immoralities I cannot enlarge. A graphic 
writer gives us the following striking view of 
the subject : — 

" Gold, well gotten, is bright and fair ; but 
there is gold which rusts and cankers. The 
stores of the man who walks according to the 
will of God, are under a special blessing ; but 
the stores which have been unjustly gathered 
are accursed. ' Your gold and your silver is 
cankered ; and the rust of them shall be a wit- 
ness against you, and shall eat up your flesh 
as fire.' Far better have no gold at all, than 



274 MANLY CHARACTER. 

gold with that curse upon it-. Far better let 
cold pinch this frame, or hunger gnaw it, than 
that the rust of ill-gotten gold should eat it 
up as fire." — The Successful Merchant, by Rev. 
William Arthur. 

As gold increases, commerce enlarges its 
sphere, and a tide of wealth comes in upon us ; 
temptations will be multiplied, worldly ex- 
citement will inflame the passions of the 
masses, and the young and ardent will stand 
a fair chance to be early victims to the raging 
fever, which will be as contagious and as fatal 
as the plague. The question, " How shall I 
become independently rich ?" will absorb the 
whole attention. Usefulness, happiness, every- 
thing, will be left out of sight — while the 
miserable passion for wealth hurries its victim 
on, witli a sort of insane fury, to the goal he 
seeks. Under such an influence, moral mo- 
tives lose their power. The conscience becomes 
first blinded, then hardened — yea seared. The 
young adventurer drives on in his course 
without either the guidance of moral principle 
or sound discretion, until he becomes a moral 
wreck. His reputation, his prospects for this 
world, and his hopes for the future, are all 
buried together in some haunt of vice, and his 
memory is blotted out. 

The spirit — I might say the fanaticism — of 



TREE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 2, i) 

the wreckless adventurer of these times, being 
"both irrational and morally wrong, is sure to 
end in ruin. If he succeeds in acquiring 
wealth, he is ruined by the love of money and 
the pride of its possession ; and if he does not 
succeed, lie is ruined by the mortification and 
desperation of disappointment. His mad ex- 
citement is a maelstrom, from whose fatal 
circles escape is almost impossible. How many 
young men have been drawn into it, and sunk 
to rise no more forever ! Their sad memorials 
are scattered all along the Pacific coast, and 
their friends — perhaps their aged parents — live 
to lament their folly, and execrate the " lust 
of gold." 

Such is our age — such are its perils. Now, 
young gentlemen, take a view of the prospect 
— survey the ground wisely and thoroughly — 
and see what course will be dictated by the 
maxims of common prudence. That those 
who are to contend with the fierce and stormy 
elements of these times, will need special 
qualifications, you cannot for a moment doubt. 
If you would not make shipwreck of your 
prospects of usefulness and happiness — if you 
would take your appropriate place in the fierce 
struggle upon which you are about to enter 
— if you would help to save the world from 
the influence of the destructive elements which 



276 MANLY CHARACTER. 

are at work — if you would be prepared for 
the emergencies of the times upon which Provi- 
dence has cast your lot — you must shotv your- 
selves men. If in any past age intellectual 
and moral feebleness would be sufficient for 
existing exigencies, such is not the case now — 
such will never be the case again to the end 
of time. The day of mighty activity has 
broke, and is never to close but with the 
termination of the evils of this world, and the 
renovation of the race. 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 277 



XI.-THE MAX FOR THE TIMES. 

" YOUNG MEN LIKEWISE EXHORT TO BE SOBER-MINDED." — TITUS 
n, 6. 

M FOR WHICH OF YOU, INTENDING TO BUTLD A TOWER, SITTETH 
NOT DOWN FIRST, AND COUNTETH THE COST, WHETHER HE 
HAVE SUFFICIENT TO FINISH IT ? LEST HAPLY AFTER HE HATH 
LAID THE FOUNDATION, AND IS NOT ABLE TO FINISH IT, ALL 
THAT BEHOLD IT BEGLN TO MOCK HIM, SAYING, THIS MAN 
BEGAN TO BUILD, AND WAS NOT ABLE TO FINISH. OR WHAT 
KING, GOING TO MAKE WAR AGAINST ANOTHER KING, SITTETH 
NOT DOWN FIRST, AND CONSULTETH WHETHER HE BE ABLE 
WITH TEN THOUSAND TO MEET HIM THAT COMETH AGAINST 
HIM WITH TWENTY THOUSAND ? OR ELSE, WHILE THE OTHER 
IS YET A GREAT WAY OFF, HE SENDETH AN AMBASSAGE, AND 
DESIRETH CONDITIONS OF PEACE." — LUKE XTV, 28-32. 

In this lecture I shall endeavour to give you 
some thoughts upon the subject of adjustment 
or adaptation to the circumstances of the 
times. Upon this, my young friends, much 
will depend, and without it your future is not 
by any means promising. By what means 
you will be able to meet your responsibilities, 
and adjust yourselves to the peculiar features 
of the age, is the great question which I now 
propose to discuss, and to which I hope to 
have your earnest attention. 

You are soon to enter the arena, and to 
contend for the prize of a good, substantial, 
practical character. You should well con- 
sider what is before you, and be thoroughly 



278 MANLY CHARACTER. 

prepared for all emergencies. It will not do 
for you to enter upon the active duties of life 
without a knowledge of these duties — a knowl- 
edge of all their special relations and bear- 
ings, of the difficulties which they involve, the 
qualifications they demand, and the issues 
which depend upon them. It would be absurd 
for any one to undertake a clerkship without 
a knowledge of figures — to assume the com- 
mand of a ship, without a knowledge of navi- 
gation — to attempt to discharge the duties of 
an advocate, without the study of law — or those 
of a clergyman, without the knowledge of di- 
vinity — or for an actor to ascend the stage, 
without previous drilling. All these would 
be absurdities almost too glaring to be sup- 
posed possible ; and yet they are scarcely more 
at war with common sense and common pru- 
dence, than w r ould be the course of the young 
man wdio would consent to enter upon the 
theatre of action without due preparation. 
He should certainly know what he is going 
about; lest, like an unsuccessful actor, he 
should be hooted from the stage. Would you 
not disgrace yourselves and your friends, you 
must prepare for a manly struggle. You are 
about to enter the lists and contend for the 
prize in the presence of thousands of anxious 
and eagle-eyed spectators ; will you " fight as 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 279 

one who beateth the air?" The race you are 
to run will require your utmost speed ; will 
you not " lay aside every weight ?" Let us 
now endeavour to ascertain what will qualify 
you for the great struggle. 

What I have presented in the preceding 
lectures, upon the formation of a manly char- 
acter, embraces a great variety of important 
maxims which will require your serious con- 
sideration, and which, if properly heeded, will 
go far towards a preparation for active life in 
any state of society. What I now have to 
say will be partly of a more specific character, 
having special relation to the indications and 
demands of the times upon which you are 
cast, and the country in which you live — and 
partly of a more general nature, embracing 
the combination and application of the par- 
ticular instructions previously given. 

" You must prepare to live by taking up 
and fixing in your mind in early youth, cer- 
tain great principles, which unquestionably 
will not grow and establish themselves there 
spontaneously. Such, for instance, as that in 
all things and all events, God is to be obey- 
ed ; that there is an essential distinction be- 
tween sin and holiness, in all conduct, both 
within the mind and without ; and that sin, 
whatever temporal advantages or pleasures it 



280 MANLY CHARACTER. 

may yield, is absolutely a dreadful evil, and 
ought to be avoided ; that nothing ought to 
be done which must afterwards be repented 
of ; that judgment and conscience must always 
prevail over inclination ; that no good in any- 
thing is to be expected without effort and la- 
bour ; that we must never put off till futurity 
what can and ought to be done in the present ; 
th.it what ought not to be done twice, should 
not be done once ; that what should be done 
at all, should be always well done; and that 
the future should predominate over the pres- 
ent." — J. A. James. Young Man's Friend 
and Guide through Life to Immortality. 

It will be obvious that thorough prepara- 
tion for the duties of an active member of 
society will require, an accurate and thorough 
knowledge of the state and tendencies of the 
public mind at the time when, and in the 
country where, you are destined to be an 
actor. 

In the preceding lecture we have briefly 
surveyed the aspects of the times — the facts 
and circumstances which must be taken into 
account in an estimate of the peculiar quali- 
fications of an actor in the scenes of the future. 
The thorough study of the mind and heart 
of the present generation of men, will be in- 
dispensable. The future is foreshadowed by 






THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 281 

the present. At least it is morally certain 
that the next generation will be in advance 
of the present in its intellectual elevation, and 
not behind it in activity. With the prospective 
progress in commerce and national wealth, 
we may also be sure that the imminent dan- 
gers of the present will be enhanced with the 
lapse of time. It will consequently be safe 
to take our gauge of the demands which will be 
made upon you, young gentlemen, from the 
existing state of society. Turn your eyes 
then upon the prospect before you, guided by 
the light of existing facts, and the history of 
the past. See the intelligence with which you 
will be associated, and with which you must 
compete : carefully mark the immense activity 
of the masses ; see the intense excitement 
which everywhere prevails ; look at the rapid 
pulsations of the jniblic heart, indicated in the 
flushed cheek, hurried utterance, and quick 
step of all you meet ; observe the radicalism, 
the idtraisms, the recklessness, the destructive- 
ness, which mark the movements of our great 
reformers ; consider well the moral phases of 
society, the religious indifference, the heart- 
less infidelity, the love of money, the intem- 
perance, swindling, robbery, and murders, so 
fearfully rife everywhere ; look at the inroads 
of Popery on the one hand, and Socialism on 



282 MANLY CHARACTER. 

the other; and with all this complication 
of circumstances — not to say anomalies — ask 
yourselves whether the man for the times must 
not possess rare qualifications of body, intel- 
lect, and heart. 

The whole scene must be surveyed with 
the eye of a philosopher and a Christian. 
The relations and dependencies of the facts 
before you, their causes and their practical 
results, must be thoroughly studied. A mere 
glance at the most prominent facts which are 
transpiring day after day will not do. They 
must be analyzed and sifted ; they must be 
viewed in every possible light. The current 
events of the day must be so thoroughly 
studied as to be connected with great general 
issues, and to furnish the means of important 
inductions with regard to the great future. 
When you mark the extraordinary features 
of this age, you should ask with solicitude : 
Whereunto will all this grow ? What prac- 
tical lesson does it teach? What special 
obligation does it impose? What is it to 
me? 

To acquire the information which I here 
urge, a young man must be a careful and 
diligent observer of men and things — of man- 
ners and habits — of the developments and 
tendencies of the mind of the nation, and the 






THE MAX FOR THE TIMES. 283 

mind of the world. He must read, converse, 
and think, and be sure that lie does more of 
the last than of the two preceding. Would 
you have the suitable qualifications to act in 
relation to existing- circumstances, you must 
be an independent thinker — must be no man's 
mouth-piece, copy no one. Mere apes we have 
in abundance ; but men of independent thought 
are too rare in these days. Reading is com- 
mon, gossip is abundant — but reflection and 
study are nearly given up to the class which 
have no use for them, such as take no part in 
the busy scenes of life. Our active business- 
men read the newspapers, and keep up with 
the progress of the market, state of stocks, 
imports and exports ; but what all the turmoil 
of modern society is to result in, they scarcely 
give a thought. As for elaborate reading, that 
is quite too uninteresting — and hard thinking, 
excepting about dollars and cents, and the 
chances of loss and gain, is to them head- 
breaking drudgery. How little they are likely 
to appreciate the signs of the times, will be 
sufficiently obvious. 

Commerce and business have an influence 
upon the intercourse of nations and upon gen- 
eral civilization. It is pitiable for men of 
soul and genius to be deeply concerned in it 
without ever looking bevond the influences it 



284 MANLY CHARACTER. 

exerts upon their petty pecuniary interests. 
The great discoveries of the age — the use of 
steam, in furnishing facilities for travelling 
upon land and for crossing the ocean, the mag- 
netic telegraph, and the results of geological, 
ethnological, and antiquarian investigations — 
all have great ends in prospect. They are 
already working vast changes in the state of 
society, and quickening the pulsations of the 
world. Those who consider these great exhi- 
bitions of human genius as mere facilities for 
husiness and avenues of wealth, have taken a 
miserably contracted view of the subject, and 
cannot be said to have entered at all into the 
spirit of these momentous times. Their views 
are exceedingly narrow, and show an utter 
want of adjustment to the actual condition of 
things. Would you, young gentlemen, pre- 
pare yourselves to fill only a respectable posi- 
tion, you must take broad and far-reaching 
views of the advances and changes of society 
— you must consider the present in connexion 
with the future ; you must not isolate the 
natural and material from the moral and spir- 
itual — you must look above the mere changes 
and revolutions which are passing about you, 
to the wise supervision which sits enthroned 
in heaven ; you must consider the visible as 
intimately related to the invisible, and. time 



THE MAX FOR THE TIMES. 285 

as destined to merge itself in eternity. Such 
are the views necessary to a man for the times. 

From what has been said, it will obviously 
be suggested that the duties and responsi- 
bilities which will devolve upon the young 
men of these times will require untiring in- 
dustry. 

We have seen that activity constitutes the 
leading feature of this age. Men are unpre- 
cedentedly active, and the very laws of the 
material universe seem to sympathize with 
men in this disposition. While the whole world 
is moving on, can you remain in a state of 
quiescence? Evil agencies are unboundedly 
active. " The devil, like a roaring lion, goeth 
about seeking whom he may devour ;" and his 
subordinate agents are active like himself. 
Truth and righteousness on foot, will be hard 
set to keep pace with error and sin driven by 
a locomotive. Those engaged in working 
against you, and against the best interests 
of society, will rise early and sit up late, and 
eat the bread of carefulness ; and how are 
you to make head against them without the 
utmost activity? In these times of hurry 
and bustle, of stir and excitement, nothing 
can be done to purpose without great exer- 
tions. Habits of industry will be found more 
than ever necessary as the progress of the 



286 MANLY CHARACTER. 

world is quickened, and society "becomes more 
deeply and powerfully moved by the spirit of 
the age. The business will all be done by 
the active and enterprising, and the tardy 
will have no employment, and, consequently, 
no bread. All the places of honour and profit 
will be secured early in the morning, while 
the sluggard is sleeping and dreaming of the 
chances of fortune. When Adam Clarke was 
young, he saw a copy of the Greek Testament 
of Erasmus advertised. Early the next morn- 
ing he hastened to the place, and secured it. 
Sonic time before noon, a celebrated scholar 
called, and inquired for the book. "You are 
too late ; it is gone," was the reply. " Too 
late ! " exclaimed the gentleman ; " why I came 
as soon as I had taken my breakfast." The 
answer was : " Adam Clarke came and pur- 
chased it before breakfast" So, my young 
friends, if you would win the prize in these 
times of enterprise and activity, you must 
be on the alert — you must rise early and 
work diligently — or, just as you fancy you are 
about to lay hold of some grand object, an- 
other will seize it; and you will see and feel 
the dreadful import of that sentence, I was too 
late ! While I delayed, another stepped in 
and superseded me. 
1 would warn you, young gentlemen, against 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 287 

habits of idleness, as the most certain pre- 
cursors of worthlessness and ruin. It is mean 
and degrading- to be idle, and just as bad to be 
employed about trifles. For a young man to 
have places for spending an idle hour in play- 
ing at games of chance, or in unprofitable 
gossip, is disgraceful and ruinous. Idleness 
is the parent of many vices, and door- way of 
a thousand temptations. 

A nervous and elegant writer, whom we have 
already several times quoted, says : "An indo- 
lent young man invites temptation, and will 
soon become a prey to it. Indolence unmans 
the faculties, impairs and debilitates the whole 
intellectual system. One way or other, be 
always employed. An idle man is the most 
miserable of all God's creatures ; a contra- 
diction to nature, where nothing is at rest. 
Among all other habits that you form, next 
to religion, the most valuable acquisition is a 
habit of activity. This must be got in youth, 
or never. Keep the ethereal fire in your soul 
alive and glowing by action. The diligent; 
man is the protected man. Temptation comes 
and addresses him, but he is preoccupied ; 
he says, ' I am too busy to attend to you.' 
Not only have occupation, but love it. Let 
your mind take a pleasure and a pride in its 
own action. Nature, it is said, abhors a 



288 MANLY CHARACTER. 

vacuum ; and if nature does not, you should. 
— James. 

Whatever your position in society may be, 
diligence in business will be found indispen- 
sable to honourable success. If you engage in 
a profession, close application to business only 
will secure public confidence, procure you busi- 
ness, make you useful in your calling, and 
insure an honourable livelihood. If a mer- 
chant, a mechanic, a farmer, or anything else 
that you can be, religiously and honourably, 
diligence will be found an indispensable con- 
dition of success. The day for idlers has 
passed, and the race is nearly extinct. All 
the lazy drones are now active scamps, except- 
ing indeed those of the class who may have 
been aroused to healthy activity by the awaken- 
ings of conscience, and a sound conversion to 
virtue and religion. 

The next qualification in a man for the 
times, which I shall notice, is the power to 
adapt himself to new circumstances, and to 
meet unexpected emergencies. 

This is not a stereotyped age, and, of course, 
stereotyped characters are not in demand. 
The rapidity with which things change, sug- 
gests the necessity, on the part of the actors 
in the excited and hurried scene, of the power 
of rapid changes in our plans and movements. 






THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 289 

The young man who has prepared himself 
for acting in one particular way — for moving 
only in a direct line — will soon find himself 
wide of the track of events, and will be toler- 
ably sure to lose sight of the great points of 
interest. He may move with promptness and 
power, but his efforts tell upon no practical 
object ; he may perform prodigies of labour, 
but he does nothing to purpose ; he may be 
exceedingly busy, but bring nothing to pass. 
A skilful general watches the movements of 
the enemy, and lays out his strength where it 
will tell ; he concentrates his force upon the 
assailable point. His tactics vary to suit the 
emergencies of the battle. We have a good 
illustration of the doctrine of adaptation 
in that part of American history, called 
" Braddock's defeat," The great English 
general undertook to fight the Indians, in the 
woods, on scientific principles. He could not 
be persuaded by young Washington, the sub- 
sequent hero of the American Revolution, to 
abandon his plan of a regular pitched battle, 
and of marshalling his forces in solid columns, 
the very arrangement which would subject 
him to a galling fire from the foe, who were 
concealed behind trees and crags, and who 
did the most fatal execution without exposing 
themselves to danger. Had he acted upon 



290 MANLY CHARACTER. 

the practical and common-sense plan proposed 
by the young American officer, and allowed 
him, with his " Rangers," to " scour the woods" 
with trailed arms, he might have saved his 
own honour and his life. 

What is strength worth — of what avail is 
action — without an aim, without wise direc- 
tion ? The more active and noisy a man is, 
the more dangerous, unless he strikes his 
blows at the proper point. Our radical re- 
formers, and bustling disorganizers, are the 
most energetic men in the community. Did 
they lay out their strength and activity upon 
some practicable and valuable improvement, 
they might bring upon their name the grati- 
tude of posterity ; but they waste them upon 
impracticable schemes. A practical mind will 
not only ask itself. What might to be done? 
but what can be done ? and what can be done 
to the best advantage ? What should be done 
first ? What will result in the greatest 
amount of good? 

The real practical genius, when he finds 
himself working to no purpose, and sees that 
the great end of life can be secured only by a 
change of policy or employment, will bend 
himself to the circumstances. Such charac- 
ters are always needed, but especially when 
changes in the state of society, and in the re- 






THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 291 

sources of the country, are sudden, and follow 
each other in quick succession. The American 
mind seems formed for rapid evolutions — for 
adaptation to new circumstances. In these 
times of new discoveries, new scenes of action, 
new phases of society, new enterprises, new 
errors, new assaults upon truth, new tac- 
tics upon the part of all classes of com- 
batants, the power of adaptation to new cir- 
cumstances seems absolutely essential to the 
actors who are now entering upon the stage. 
Skilful labourers in the cause of humanity 
and religion, are now more eminently needed 
than at any former period of the world's his- 
tory. Mere earnestness and sincerity of in- 
tentions will not do. The world wants talent 
that will conform itself to the infinite variety 
of forms in which the public necessities may 
present themselves, or the constantly varying 
circumstances which follow the rapid march 
of the world, and the revolutions and changes 
which transpire in these stirring times. 

The young man who would be adequate to 
the demands of the times, must acquire a 
liberal Christian education. 

I do not use the term liberal in the usual 
technical sense, for an education at college, 
but as implying an education broad, deep, and 
thorough. A young man may acquire a lib- 



292 MANLY CHARACTER. 

eral education without graduating at college, 
and a graduate at college may not be half 
educated. Then school education, without 
Christian principle, will do but little towards 
preparing one for the great moral conflicts 
which are before us. General and secular 
education has its importance, but it is the 
Christian scholar which is to do the work of 
this age, and the ages which are to come. 
Christian schools should be multiplied and 
endowed, and our students in these schools 
should be imbued with the spirit of Chris- 
tian enterprise. We want scholars who 
have hearts as well as heads — whose moral 
powers are as highly educated as their in- 
tellect. 

The struggle now is not so much between 
knowledge and ignorance, as it is between sin 
and holiness, vice and virtue. Practical in- 
fidelity is becoming bold and threatening. 
Unsanctified passions and pampered appetites 
assume the reins, and dash on with the most 
destructive power. AVickedness shows its head 
in a thousand hideous forms. To reform the 
world morally and religiously, is the great 
object of all rational philanthropy. Hence 
the demand for a moral instrumentality as 
potent and as wise as the apostles themselves. 
Mothers and fathers should labour to *nve 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 293 

their children deep and thorough moral and 
religious convictions and impressions. Edu- 
cation, "both at home and at school, should he 
eminently religious. Young men, under what- 
ever mode of education, should "become learned 
in the science of godliness, and arm them- 
selves against all corrupt and infidel influences. 
They need a mighty depth of principle, a 
towering faith, a zeal for God and his cause, 
a spirit of sacrifice and self-denial, a love of 
the truth, and practical wisdom, equal to the 
greatest possible emergencies. Your educa- 
tion must fit you to meet boldness and impu- 
dence in wrong doing with calm, dignified 
firmness ; infidel philosophy, with the inspired 
truth of God's word ; sophistry, with sound 
reasoning ; satanic cunning, with the wisdom 
which cometh from above ; human tradition, 
with the sure word of prophecy ; formalism, 
with spirituality ; and sin and corruption, in 
all their forms, with a holy life and a godly 
conversation. You must be learned in philos- 
ophy, learned in history, learned in polemical 
divinity ; but, above all, must you be learned 
in the Scriptures. " The sword of the Spirit, 
which is the word of God," is the great de- 
sideratum in the armour which you must 
" take to yourselves." 

Another qualification in a man for the times, 



294 MANLY CHARACTER. 

is a thorough and extensive acquaintance with 
books. 

Reading is, perhaps, the leading means of 
knowledge. We can gain some knowledge 
by observation and conversation ; but without 
reading, the compass of information will be 
exceedingly limited, and, indeed, altogether 
deficient. Not only must the sciences be 
studied in books, but a great part of that 
general knowledge, which is absolutely neces- 
sary to a man for the times, can be attained 
only through books. This is emphatically an 
age of books. Everybody reads. During no 
period of the world's history have publica- 
tions been produced in such profusion. This 
fact itself, if nothing else, is proof of the 
demand for reading matter. Now, printed 
pages are rained down in indefinite numbers 
and variety — they fall upon us like the leaves 
of autumn. He who is not a considerable 
reader, will soon find himself unfit for good 
society, and altogether " behind the times." 
Diligent, careful, extensive reading, is now 
necessary to the man of business as well as 
the scholar or the professional gentleman. If 
one is found utterly unacquainted with a popu- 
lar book, he is at once set down as deficient 
in taste and industry, and can pass for noth- 
ing better than a second or third-rate man. 



THE MAX FOR THE TIMES. 295 

I would by no means urge you, young gen- 
tlemen, to read all the books and periodicals 
•which are issued from the press — this would 
be physically impossible. Of many of these 
you only need know their title ; of many 
others, all you need be informed of is their 
table of contents ; of some others, you should 
be acquainted with mere portions. Early in 
my history, I was in the practice of reading 
nearly every book which I commenced entirely 
through. Experience finally taught me that 
I wasted much time by this system. Now 
when I find this plan will not pay, I dismiss 
an author with a more general survey of the 
plan of the work, and an examination of such 
portions only as promise an addition to my 
stock of ideas. A good book is not only worth 
reading through, but worthy to be studied. 
Works that not only convey important in- 
formation, but are suggestive — giving a spring 
to thought, and furnishing themes for medi- 
tation, are the most profitable, and should be 
preferred. Such a book is an invaluable 
treasure, and may often be re-read many times 
with very great advantage. Thoroughly mas- 
tering the contents of such a book, and im- 
bibing its spirit, will really do more towards 
furnishing the mind for action, than an in- 
definite amount of careless general reading. 



296 MANLY CHARACTER. 

Beading merely for amusement should be 
indulged in with great caution, if at all. The 
frothy productions of the day, which are mere- 
ly designed to cater to a morbid appetite, are 
essentially injurious. I have already touched 
this subject, and must not here enlarge upon 
it. It will be sufficient to say that life is too 
precious to be spent — any portion of it — in 
perusing pages which in no sense contribute 
to our better preparation for usefulness and 
happiness. Upon this broad ground I would 
discourage merely unprofitable reading. As 
to the publications which are of vicious ten- 
dency, they should be utterly avoided, for the 
same great moral reasons which would keep 
you from dangerous contact with the worst of 
human beings. A book is a companion, and 
a bad book is the most dangerous of all bad 
companions. The eloquent Mr. J. A. James, 
in his sermons to young men, gives them the 
following earnest admonition upon this sub- 
ject :— 

" With much the same emphasis [that he 
had cautioned young men against bad eom- 
pcmy] do I warn you against bad books; the 
infidel and immoral publications, of which 
such a turbid deluge is now flowing from the 
press, and depositing on the land a soil in 
which the seeds of all evil will grow- with 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 297 

rank luxuriance. Infidelity and immorality 
have seized upon fiction and poetry, and are 
endeavouring to press into their service even 
science and the arts. But besides these, books 
that inflame the imagination and corrupt 
the taste, that even by their excitement unfit 
the mind for the sober realities of life, or that 
indispose it by everlasting laughter for all 
that is grave, serious, and dignified, are all 
to be avoided. In some respects, bad books 
are more mischievous than bad companions, 
since they are still more accessible, and more 
constantly with us ; can be more secretly con- 
sulted, and lodge their poison more abidingly 
in the imagination, the intellect, and the 
heart. A bad book is a bad companion of the 
worst kind, and prepares for bad companions 
of all other kinds/' 

As this is a subject of great importance, I 
need hardly apologize for adding to the above 
the pertinent and wise cautions of Addison. 
" "Words," says he, " are the transcript of 
those ideas which are in the mind of man ; 
writing and printing are the transcript of 
words. As the Supreme Being has expressed, 
and, as it were, printed his ideas in the crea- 
tion, men express their ideas in books ; which, 
by this great invention of latter ages, may 
last as long as the sun and moon, and perish 



298 MANLY CHARACTER. 

only in the general wreck of nature. Books 
are the legacies which a great genius leaves to 
mankind, and which are delivered down from 
generation to generation, as presents to the 
posterity of those who are yet unborn. Now, ' 
if writings are thus durable, and may pass 
from age to age throughout the whole course 
of time, how careful should an author be of 
committing anything to print that may cor- 
rupt posterity, and poison the minds of men 
with vice and error ? Writers of great talents, 
who employ their parts in propagating im- 
morality, and seasoning vicious sentiment 
with wit and humour, are to be looked upon 
as the pests of society, and the enemies of 
mankind. They leave books behind them — 
as it is said of those who die in distempers 
which breed an ill-will towards their own 
species — to scatter infection, and destroy their 
posterity. They act the counterparts of a 
Confucius or a Socrates ; and seem, as it were, 
sent into the world to deprave human nature, 
and sink it into the condition of brutality." 
— Spectator. 

To render the poison palatable, it is not 
unfrequently sweetened with the ornaments 
of rhetoric and the graces of style. As says 
Dr. Young: — 



THE MAX FOR THE TIMES. 299 

M The flowers of eloquence, profusely pour'd 
O'er spotted vice, fill half the letter'd world ; 
As if to magic numbers' powerful charm 
'Twas given to make a civet of their song 
Obscene, and sweeten ordure to perfume. 
"Wit, a true pagan, deifies the brute, 
And lifts our swine enjoyments from the mire : 
Can powers of genius exercise their page, 
And consecrate enormities with song? 
Art, cursed art ! wipes off th' indebted blush 
From nature's cheek, and bronzes every shame. 
Man smiles in ruin, glories in his guilt, 
And infamy stands candidate for praise." 

Night Thoughts. 

Your reading should embrace the best 
books and periodicals. I say the best, for you 
have no time to squander upon those which 
are merely indifferent — there is reading enough 
of the first class to occupy you, however dili- 
gent you may be, or however much time you 
may be able to command, for purposes of read- 
ing and study. The whole of your reading, 
and every part of it, should have a tendency 
to expand your intellect, refine your taste, 
and improve the tone of your moral feelings. 
Keep these ends ever in view, and it will not 
be difficult to select your authors. You want 
intellectual and moral power ; and if an au- 
thor does not help you to these, pass him 
by. The world wants great men — great 
philosophers — great philanthropists — great 
Christians. Bring all vour reading to bear 



300 MANLY CHARACTER. 

upon the qualifications to meet this want, and 
you will not labour in vain. Errorists are 
well read ; and if you would be prepared 
to counterwork them and thwart their evil 
designs — if you would escape their snares — 
you must vie with them in your acquaintance 
with authors. Your knowledge must be of 
that extended and thorough kind, which only 
can be attained by communing with the great 
and good minds of all ages, through their 
immortal writings. 

The learned and pious Doddridge, when a 
student, laid down the following rule to gov- 
ern his reading : " Never let me trifle with a 
book with which I have no present concern. 
In applying myself to any book, let me 
first recollect what I am to learn by it, and 
then by suitable assistance from God : thus 
let me endeavour to make all my studies sub- 
servient to practical religion and ministerial 
usefulness." Like this great and good man, 
you should meddle with no book the reading 
of which will not contribute to your better 
preparation for the post you are preparing to 
occupy as a steward of God, a member of the 
Church, and a man. 

Exclude all corrupt and unprofitable litera- 
ture, and you will find reading in abundance, 
far more than vou will ever be able to go 



THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 30 1 

through with, of another sort. There are 
books enough at hand, on all important and 
useful topics, to occupy all the time you will 
he able to devote to reading. I need not oc- 
cupy your attention with specific directions. 
The better sort of Eeviews, and the religious 
newspapers and magazines, will keep you ad- 
vised of the progress of the publishing houses, 
and the advent of new works. Descriptive 
catalogues will also be found of great service 
to you in the selection of books. A well-read, 
judicious friend, will be found invaluable ; he 
will often guard you against an unprofitable 
outlay of time in your reading, and dangerous 
contact with suspicious authors. 

Again : to be a man for the times, you 
must be a man of large and catholic views 
and feelings. 

When nations had but little intercourse, 
and men were much at home, a comparatively 
limited scope of mind, and little sympathy 
with the great world, were the natural results 
of inevitable circumstances. Now that the 
most distant portions of the world are brought 
more together, the world seems like one great 
family, and all men are brethren. Our sym- 
pathies should now extend to the brotherhood 
of man, and our efforts to do good should over- 
step all those arbitrary limits which intervene 



302 MANLY CHARACTER. 

between states and nations. It becomes the 
men of this age, especially, to contemplate the 
universal wants of humanity, and to aim, not 
merely at benefiting the country in which 
they live, but at making the world better ; 
and they should direct their efforts to the point 
which presents the strongest claims. It will 
not do for us, who have fallen upon such an 
interesting period of the world's history, to 
act upon the contracted views of former cen- 
turies. When men can reach Europe, and 
even Asia and Africa, in nearly as short a 
period of time as it cost their fathers to take 
their grain, cattle, or lumber, to their own 
home market, it becomes them to expand 
their views, and to enlarge their outlays for 
the good of others. As no portion of the 
world is beyond our reach, every portion of 
it should share in our sympathies and labours. 
The necessary result of this large -hearted- 
ness will be large appropriations of time and 
money for the good of the world. The wealth 
which has come in upon us like a flood, must 
have a large outlet, or it will prove an instru- 
ment of corruption. Large plans of benevo- 
lence must be devised, and great efforts made 
to carry forward the improvement of the race. 
Instead of pennies, we are now able to give 
jjounds; and cur obligations, and the demands 



THE MAN FOB THE TIMES- 303 

of the world, are in exact proportion to our 
means. From our stand-point we can see the 
" regions beyond/ 7 and we should both feel 
for them, and labour to confer upon them 
permanent blessings. 

Sectional feelings, or narrow-minded secta- 
rianism, are wholly inconsistent with these 
times. The commingling of nations, classes, 
and sects, seems designed by God to wear away 
the angles which have heretofore come into 
such terrible and distressing collision. A 
truly catholic Christianity is now eminently 
demanded, as well as suggested, by the state 
of the world. False catholicity, alias exclusive- 
ness, should now go out of sight, and Chris- 
tians should feel themselves called upon to 
labour in harmony for the good of the world. 
These are no times for selfishness and narrow- 
mindedness. Large and liberal Christian 
views and feelings are the great want of the 
Church. Cultivate this catholic spirit, my 
young friends, as now eminently necessary 
and honourable to your heads and hearts. 

Such, young gentlemen, is the man for the 
times. When you shall have fully taken in 
the idea, have seen the circumstances which 
create the need in their true light, you will 
see just what you ought to aspire to become. 
When you see this, you then ought to feel the 



304 MANLY CHARACTER. 

obligation to put forth the required effort for 
the attainments demanded ; and then you 
should begin to j3ut forth your utmost exer- 
tions to reach the goal. Now bring your 
heads and hearts to the work. Eesolve, by 
the help of God, to fill the niche for which 
Providence designed you. Live in your own 
age ; be a man for the times ; keep up with 
the tremendous onward movement of the 
world ; and may God give you good success 
in the great work to which you are called, 
and for which you will labour with all your 
powers to become eminently fitted. 



THE END. 



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